Cheating in Quidditch
by PinkElephant42
Summary: Slash! HPDM,HPOW. Sequel to 'Please Wake Up.' Harry and Draco have been together for six years, and most of the time they were happy. So why are they suddenly breaking up? Is there nothing that can make them remember how much they loved each other?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

**Warning:** If male/male relationships bother you, you don't want to read this story!

**A/N:** This is the sequel to **"Please Wake Up."** It is suggested that you read that before this, as I reference events from it quite a bit. If you have already read it, enjoy more Harry/Draco angst and hotness! I also have a one-shot that goes with these two stories, called **"On Roses and Healing."**

Like with "Please Wake Up," we start near the end of the story, then flash back to the beginning. I have labeled the flashbacks this time. The flashbacks are chronological, so I've almost got two stories going at the same time here, similar to "Please Wake Up," only this time we have an omnificent view-point, so we get both Harry and Draco's sides of the story.

Also, a huge thank you to **HPalto87**, who has not only been a great beta, but an inspiration to me as well.

And, a shameless plug:Although I love writing, I am primarily an artist. Visit my livejournal, **pinkelephant42, **for Harry/Draco fanart.

Enjoy!

---

1

Harry stomped around the bedroom angrily, packing up his things. He couldn't take this anymore. After all he and Draco had been through together, it was just time to give up. How could they have thought this would last, anyway? They were just too different, and it turned out that they couldn't trust each other.

Despite everything, they just weren't meant to be together.

Harry shoved the last of his robes into a suitcase. The closet stood less than half empty now, Draco having accumulated nearly twice as many clothes as Harry.

_Vain, materialistic git!_ Harry thought. He felt a strong urge to physically hurt Draco, but the blonde wasn't home yet. In fact, if all went well, Harry would be out of the house before he even got home that night. So instead, he took out his anger by kicking the pile of boxes at the bottom of the closet.

Bad idea.

The boxes tumbled over, spilling their contents at Harry's feet. This only fueled his frustration. He kicked a box of old Quidditch gear, and watched it slide across the floor and hit the nightstand.

_What is all this? _Harry thought, looking at the junk-pile._ How did we accumulate so much crap in just five years, anyway? Oh, right, my boyfriend- no- _ex_-boyfriend- is a materialistic git!_

He poked at the junk-pile with his foot. Photos, candles, shoes, books, an old camera that probably didn't work anymore, their old Hogwarts scarves, a broken umbrella, a working umbrella that Harry had forgotten about, a set of silk sheets, sex toys, a small wooden box that Harry had never seen before…

Curious, Harry picked up the box. It was plain oak with a silver clasp holding it shut. The clasp had a little moving dragon that nipped at Harry's fingers when he tried to open it.

"Ow!" Harry pulled his hand away. Only Draco would implement a lock like that.

Harry grabbed his wand and pointed it at the little dragon. "Alohomora," he said.

The box opened. Harry was surprised that Draco hadn't put a spell that was harder to break on it. Inside there was a stack of parchment and a small potion vial. Harry didn't recognize the black, swirling liquid inside of it. Potions were Draco's thing, not his.

He lifted the parchment. His name was written on the top on the first sheet in Draco's neat handwriting.

_Harry,_

_You will probably never read this letter. If you live, I will have no reason to give it to you, and if you don't- oh, Merlin, I can't think about that. You can't d- I mean, you have to wake up. If I lose you, I don't think I could go on._

Harry flipped through the pages, looking for some indication of when this was written. There were days and times, but no dates. He skimmed through a few of the pages, and pieced it together.

_...I knew why your name was famous, but had no idea of the prophecy or the battle that would come._

_The one that would nearly destroy you._

_The one that might actually have destroyed you._

_I can picture it. You lay in that bed, white hospital sheets tucked neatly around you. The people who love you wandering in and out, holding your hand, talking to you in hopes that you'll just wake up…_

The final battle, and a hospital, so this must be St. Mungo's. The letter was written during the few days he was unconscious after the Final Battle.

Or was it longer? A few weeks? It was all a bit hazy in his mind. He remembered being there, and fighting Voldemort, but not in detail. The next thing he remembered was Draco's voice, and comforting words.

Harry skipped a few more pages.

"…_I mean, have you heard anything about Harry's condition?" I asked her more coherently._

"_No one knows much. I'm sorry. It's kind of up in the air right now," she said. She did look sorry._

"_They won't let me see him," I said. She already knew that of course, and nodded. _

Why wouldn't they let Draco see him? Surely he had explained about their plan; that they had faked the break-up so Draco could get closer to Voldemort and spy for the Order. Didn't they believe him?

Harry had been there for nearly a month, and most of it was a blur of appreciative visitors and doting Medi-Wizards. He'd been given so many different potions, for healing, sleeping, pain reduction, and Merlin knew what else. As a side-effect of taking that many potions in such a short period of time, Harry was often tired or dizzy. He had a hard time trying to keep up with what was going on around him. He didn't know if he would have made it without Draco there.

Draco had sat beside him every day. Every day, he had brought Harry a rose, and every day they had just talked, and kissed, and made plans for their future. They had given the people around them no choice but to accept that they were together. Draco refused to leave each day until visiting hours were over, and Harry wouldn't cooperate with the Medi-Wizards unless they treated Draco with some measure of respect. Hermione had said the two of them were acting like children, but it had seemed to be the only way to get their point across at the time.

He had always assumed Draco had been sitting next to him, holding his hand, waiting for him to wake up from his comatose state. But if this letter was true…

Merlin. Draco must have been a nervous wreck.

'No, Malfoys don't break down like that,' Harry reminded himself. He's self-absorbed, and he hurt you, remember?

Right. Harry was in the process of leaving the arse. Draco could come home at any time, and he wanted to be gone before he did. He just couldn't face the git yet. He shoved the parchment and vial back into the box and shut it. He slammed his suitcase closed and grabbed some floo powder.

Harry suddenly realized he had nowhere to go.

He could run to Oliver, but that's what started this mess in the first place.

He could go to the Burrow, but Molly was in France at the moment.

Hermione would know what to do, and Ron would be _happy. _Although they had tried for Harry's sake, Draco and Ron had never really gotten along.

Harry took one last look around the room. The wooden box, with its little dragon lock, sat in the middle of the floor. He hesitated, but grabbed it, stepped into the floo, and shouted Hermione and Ron's address.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

A/N: Okay, so the internet in half the city is down, so I am updating this from a coffee shop (yay for wifi!). Like with 'Please Wake Up,' I intended to update this daily, but forgive me if I don't do so until Time-Warner stops sucking. Anyway, thank you to all my reviewers!

---

2

Hermione tucked her one-year-old daughter in her crib, and set the magic mobile to play until she fell asleep. Ron quietly came into the room behind her.

"Good-night, Penelope," he said softly to the crib, and wrapped his arms lovingly around his wife.

"She's beautiful," he whispered into her ear.

Hermione turned in his arms and kissed him lightly.

Then they heard the floo roar to life downstairs, ruining their happy little moment.

Hermione sighed and pushed away from her husband. There were only two people who had constant access to their floo; Harry and Molly. Since Molly was currently visiting Bill and Fleur in France, she walked to the study to greet her friend.

---

Hermione watched Harry stumble into the study through their fireplace. Run brushed past her and helped him stand. Harry mumbled a thanks to Ron and dropped his suitcase by his feet. He lifted his now-free hand to his face, and Hermione realized he was fighting back tears.

Ron led Harry to the tattered couch and sat down with him. Hermione took the seat on the other side of Harry, and held onto his arm. She noticed that he was clutching a small wooden box in his lap, but decided to ignore it for the moment. She needed to confirm Harry's emotional state before she worried about random objects.

"Tell us what's wrong," she said in a soft, motherly voice.

"You know what's wrong," Harry replied.

Neither Hermione nor Ron knew what to say to that. They did, in fact, know what had happened in recent months. It was bad, but Harry and Draco had always been able to work through their problems before. They had fought Voldemort together, for Merlin's sake! If they could get through all of the hell that they had to deal with during the war, Hermione believed they could get through anything.

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm leaving him," he said finally. "We just keep hurting each other. It's not worth it anymore."

"You can't just walk out on him!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why not?" Ron asked her. "We all know the most important thing to Malfoy is himself. Harry deserves better."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I have to agree with Ron," Harry said quietly. He looked up, and they could see that he was on the verge of tears.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She looked away from Harry's green eyes, which were silently pleading for her support and understanding.

Her eyes wandered around the study. It was a small room, lined with tall bookshelves on two sides. The third wall contained a fireplace that was connected to the floo network, and the fourth had a wide picture window above the couch they were currently sitting on. There was a messy desk in the middle of the room, covered in parchment and ink and quills. A framed photo of Hermione and Ron on their wedding day sat on the edge, next to a photo of Harry holding their daughter. He was Penelope's Godfather.

Hermione needed to change the subject before Harry broke down.

"What is this?" Hermione said, touching the box in Harry's arms.

"Nothing," he said too quickly, and tightened his grip on it.

Hermione knew him better than that, and held out her hands. "Give it here," she said, as if speaking to a child.

Harry reluctantly unlocked it and handed it over, knowing she wouldn't give up. Besides, maybe she'd be able to recognize the potion.

She carefully lifted the papers from the box and skimmed through the words. Her eyes widened. "I… I haven't seen this in so long," she said. "I didn't think he still had it."

"You know what it is?" Harry asked, and she nodded.

The parchment held all the pain Draco had gone through when Harry was in St. Mungo's. It held a full account of how the relationship had developed between the two boys, and Draco's role during the war. It had driven Hermione to tears when she read it.

Hermione shifted her eyes up to her friend. "Draco gave this to you?"

"I found it when I was packing," Harry said.

Hermione grew angry. "You mean to tell me that you've read this, and you still want to leave him?" she demanded. Her voice rose and tears formed in her eyes.

Harry reeled back from her. "Hermione, I-"

"Harry Potter, I don't believe you! How can you be so oblivious?" she yelled.

"Hermione!" Harry tried again, but she wasn't finished yet.

"Don't you realize how much he loves you?" she asked.

Ron reached across Harry and grabbed her arm. "Penelope is sleeping," he reminded her.

"Right. Sorry, I just…" Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. "I don't understand, Harry."

"I haven't actually read it," Harry confessed. "I just saw my name, and… well…"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Harry wasn't supposed to have that box. Draco would be upset… More upset than he was already? Hermione didn't think that was possible.

"Draco doesn't even know you have this, does he?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry confirmed.

Hermione dropped the box back into Harry's lap and stood up. "Read it," she demanded. She took Ron's hand and led him out of the small room, leaving Harry alone with a stack of papers he wasn't sure he wanted to read.

---

Hermione didn't let go of Ron's hand until they were in their bedroom.

Hermione began pacing the small room with an expression that Ron was all too familiar with. It meant she was deep in thought, and she would stress herself out before coming upon a satisfactory answer to whatever question was occupying that mind of hers.

He pulled her into a hug, stopping her before she got to that point, and ending her pacing.

"This could be good for Harry," he said. "He could do so much better than Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head. "No, not after everything they've done to just be together. That box… I can't believe Draco never showed that to Harry!"

"What's in that box?" Ron asked.

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Do you remember when Harry was in St. Mungo's, and Draco spent the whole time sitting in his corner of the waiting room, writing?"

"Vaguely," Ron replied. "I tried not to pay any attention to him. You know the theory, if you ignore him, he'll go away."

"He's not an animal, Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"Err… so that box has whatever Malfoy was writing then?" Ron asked evasively.

Hermione nodded. "It's a letter to Harry, but really it was just a way for Draco to get all of his frustration out. It's the sweetest, most heart-breaking story… I told him he should show Harry, but he never did. I thought he had gotten rid of it."

"Why are you making Harry read that?" Ron's eyes narrowed, trying to read her.

"To make him see everything he's giving up." Hermione answered.

Ron gave it up as a lost cause. He had learned long ago that when Hermione made up her mind about something, it was useless to argue. She was always right, anyway. She was the most intelligent witch he knew, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

---

3

Harry slumped down on the couch. He had come to Hermione and Ron for support, not to get yelled at or lectured. Well, Ron seemed to support him. Hermione, however, seemed to be on Draco's side. Which was odd, because she was usually so good at seeing things objectively.

Harry sighed and looked at the stack of parchment in the box. Hermione wanted him to read it. He didn't want to. It was an old letter, after all. Any feelings Draco expressed in it five years ago weren't necessarily going to apply now, but Hermione was so bloody _insistent._

Harry sighed, and picked up the parchment. Deep down, he was afraid there was something there that would change his mind. He started reading anyway.

This was a side of Draco that was rarely seen. The letter showed a caring, possessive, yet completely defenseless Draco. It wasn't often that anyone got to see beyond the cool, confident, sophisticated yet sarcastic façade Draco usually presented. Harry was amazed by the confessions on just the first two pages.

He hated it.

More specifically, he hated how their relationship turned out. They had been so in love with each other. When did all of that fade? He read on, wondering how in the world the impatient, self-absorbed Draco Malfoy was ever able to handle the situation.

The letter went on, recounting briefly why Harry was in St. Mungo's.

_We can finally be together now. The war is over. There's no one to stop us._

_This is what we've worked so hard for. Remember how we got together? Remember those nights by the lake, that first kiss, hot cocoa by the fire? I want that sort of romance again, Harry. We don't even have to hide it anymore. I want to spend each day by your side, and each night in your arms._

Of course Harry remembered. The little romantic things from the past did not make up for what had happened between them recently. The lies and the misery just ran too deep.

_Merlin, I'm rambling._

Malfoys didn't ramble. They engaged in sophisticated, boring conversation, and the sort of small talk that Harry was never good at. They would go to those obligatory high-class social parties, and Harry would feel like a common house-elf when he was supposed to be Draco's trophy boyfriend.

But that's just it, right? Everything was always about Draco, and all Harry had to do was sit back and look good. Draco found their home, set up the Quidditch shop they owned together, took care of the finances, the help staff (after the various disasters with Dobby and Kreature, Harry refused to keep house-elves, much to Hermione's relief), and countless other things.

The only things he expected Harry to do were to stand beside him, and cook occasionally. When Draco had learned that living with the Dursleys had made Harry a rather good cook, he had insisted he had to try some of Harry's food. Harry had been reluctant at first. Surely, his cooking couldn't compare to the gourmet food Draco was used to. He finally gave in to Draco's pleading, however, and his boyfriend had quickly fallen in love with his cooking.

After that, he had made an effort to make one romantic dinner for the two of them every week. After a while, it seemed like it was expected of him.

It's not that Harry minded, really. He did actually like to cook. He just didn't feel _needed_ like he should. He was supposed to be more than Draco's cook or trophy boyfriend. They were supposed to be in _love._ They were supposed to appreciate each other.

Harry hadn't truly felt appreciated in a long time. His life with Draco had become monotonous. They did the same things and saw the same people all the time. They made love in the same places. They had everything they could want, but their life just wasn't exciting any more. Harry felt like he was missing something.

Maybe that's why he did what he did. Draco had inadvertently driven him into the arms of someone more exciting. Harry had just wanted to feel alive and appreciated, and Draco wasn't giving him that.

Harry went back to Draco's letter.

_You've turned me into a romantic sod, you know that? It's kind of pathetic, but I am so head-over-heels for you that I don't even care. Just, please, come back to me._

_Please, wake up._

'When _did_ Draco turn into such a romantic sod?' Harry wondered.

Probably sometime during those nights in the room of requirement. At that time, they were so completely wrapped up in each other that they were able to put all of their past differences and everything that was going on with the war aside. Harry and Draco had known that they shouldn't be together, but once they realized how much they had in common, and what a great potential for love they shared, they just couldn't stand to be apart.

Even after Hogwarts and the war, they used to do all sorts of sweet things together. They went out of their way to make each other happy. There were picnics, candlelit dinners and roses. They had stayed up long nights talking, just to watch the sun rise together. It had all faded though. Except for an isolated incident last summer, which marked their six-year anniversary, they hadn't done anything romantic and spontaneous in… a year?

No, it couldn't have been that long, but it was. How could they have been miserable together for that long?

They hadn't been miserable, though. They were too busy to be. Or rather, they kept themselves busy so they wouldn't have time to dwell on their suffering relationship.

The last time they had done something romantic was that night they slept under the stars.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.  
Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

---

4

Flashback

It had been Harry's idea. Draco would never suggest such a thing. Malfoys do not sleep outside with the dirt and the bugs. So, Harry didn't intend to tell him about that part of the plan.

Harry grabbed a bottle of wine (a rather expensive bottle- the only kind Draco would drink) and two glasses. He put them in a picnic basket with a blanket and a bag of strawberries. He brought it outside and placed it in the grass beside the lake.

Well, it was more like a large pond than a lake. The advertisement for the property exaggerated a bit when it said lake-side. The water was always rather mucky, and when it got too hot in the summer it gave off an odd smell; but Harry liked it none-the-less.

The house was exactly what Harry wanted, and therefore exactly what Draco wanted, even if it was a bit small for his tastes. It was a two-story cottage in a secluded area outside of London that offered the couple comfort and privacy.

Since Draco had done most of the decorating, it looked classy and refined on the inside. The colors were light and airy, lots of silvers and pale blues and pale greens, and the furniture was mostly simple and geometric, but very expensive. The impressionistic artwork scattered about added to the cozy feeling.

As far as the outside, however… well, Draco didn't like getting his hands dirty. He hired gardeners to come once a month, but Harry usually did work around the yard and lake/pond too. He had secretly taken a liking to gardening, which he could never tell Draco. He always thought that manual labor was too lower-class for himself and his boyfriend.

Harry went back into the house to find his lover.

Draco was in the library, which he always said couldn't actually be considered a library compared to the one at Malfoy Manor. Unfortunately, the manor had been burned down after the war, along with several other large estates belonging to death eaters. Draco had been upset, to say the least.

He was curled up in a big soft armchair in the rather small library, immersed in a book. Harry leaned over him, and pushed the book down. Draco frowned up at his boyfriend, and Harry kissed the pouty lips. When he pulled back, Harry found Draco smiling at him.

"Hello, love," Draco said. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you," Harry said with a smile.

Draco placed a ribbon in the book to mark his place, and reached a hand out to him. Harry pulled him up into a hug, and placed another gentle kiss on his lips.

"I have a surprise for you," Harry said.

"Does it involve you getting naked at some point?" Draco asked.

"If you play your cards right," Harry teased.

Draco thrust his hips into Harry's. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Harry laughed softly and kissed him again. Then he pulled away, and took Draco's hand, leading him out of the library.

---

Once outside, Harry spread the blanket on the cool grass, and sat down on it. Draco looked at him questioningly. Malfoys do not sit in the grass, after all.

"Come on, Angel," Harry said, using his pet name for Draco.

He then gave his boyfriend the biggest smile and puppy-eyes he could manage. Draco conceded easily. He sat next to Harry and gave him a kiss.

"So, what are we doing out here?" Draco asked.

"Stargazing," Harry replied.

"Stargazing," Draco repeated after a moment. The look on his face told Harry he was about to be hit with a sarcastic remark or two.

"Yeah. With wine and strawberries," Harry amended.

"That's more like it," Draco said with a smile.

Harry poured the wine and handed a glass to Draco. He put the strawberries between them and Draco raised his glass.

"To what should we toast?" he asked his boyfriend.

"To us. To many happy years together." Harry replied.

They clinked glasses and drank. Draco seemed to be enjoying himself, and Harry was happy for that. He hadn't been sure how well Draco would take the whole stargazing thing. He really didn't like nature in general, but Draco seemed to be enjoying himself anyway.

Draco examined the strawberries.

"My favorite," he said.

"I know," Harry replied.

He picked one and fed it to Draco, who made sure to lick Harry's fingers as he did. Harry loved that feeling, and that combined with alcohol would quickly lead to sex. Harry wanted to prolong that, however. He pulled his hand away and ate one of the chocolates himself.

Draco pouted briefly at the loss, but was soon too distracted by the wine and fruit to care. The two sat in silence for a while, enjoying the flavors, the stars, and each other's company.

Draco broke the silence suddenly. "I spoke with Blaise today."

"How is he?" Harry asked.

"All right. He's dating some bloke from Paris now, but I don't think it will last much longer. You know how bad Blaise is with relationships," Draco said with a laugh.

"What's his longest now? Six months?" Harry replied.

"Seven," Draco said. "Anyway, he wants to know if he should expect us at his annual Halloween ball,"

"Yeah, but we'll be late," Harry said. "We're supposed to go to the Weasely's party."

"Do we have to?" Draco whined.

"Yes. They consider us family," Harry said.

"Fine, we'll go to the Weasel's silly party," Draco said miserably.

"Weasely," Harry corrected automatically. "We just hang out there for an hour or so, then we can go to your high-class friends and hang out with the socialites and gold-diggers."

"The upper-class does not 'hang out,' Harry," Draco scoffed. "We socialize, mingle, and dance, but we do not 'hang out.'"

Harry laughed again. "Of course not, love."

He kissed Draco on the cheek, and Draco pulled him into something more needy. He licked at Harry's lips, and the brunette parted his lips obligingly. Harry moved closer to Draco without breaking the kiss and moved to sit in the blonde's lap. He felt Draco's tongue in his mouth, his hands wandering his body, his hard cock pressing against his leg.

Harry pushed is boyfriend back until he was lying beneath him on the blanket. He slowly began to remove Draco's clothes, but the other man became impatient. Draco threw off his own clothes, and then began to work on Harry's. Soon, both sets were in the grass, and Harry found himself on top of a very naked, very needy Draco.

Draco's hands moved to Harry's arse, and began to knead the flesh there. Harry pressed his erection against Draco's, causing him to arch up into the dark-haired boy. He responded by tugging lightly at Draco's penis.

"I'm going to make love to you tonight," Harry said, and began nipping at Draco's neck.

"Mmm… isn't it… mmm, keep doing that… isn't it your turn to bottom?" Draco asked.

"I bottomed last time," Harry replied.

"Mmm," Draco conceded.

Harry grabbed his wand and muttered the lube spell. He lathered his own cock and Draco's opening liberally, before pressing into his lover. They started slow, enjoying the feel of each other.

Draco suddenly gripped Harry's arms and demanded, "More!"

Harry readily obliged, speeding up his movements to trigger their orgasms. Draco came before Harry, and the tightening of the muscles around his cock triggered Harry's release.

They collapsed together, regaining their strength and their breath. Harry pushed the picnic basket aside and placed his glasses on top of it. He pulled the blanket around them, and wrapped an arm and a leg around Draco, who snuggled into his embrace.

Harry kissed Draco tenderly. "Love you, Angel."

"I love you too, Harry," Draco replied sleepily.

The two of them gazed at the stars until they fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

---

5

Draco stood on the porch in front of his and Harry's house. He needed the password to get in. _What was the damn password?_ Draco mentally kicked himself. They changed it every month, and he could remember last month's password just fine. But this time Harry had chosen something odd and muggle.

The brass doorknocker smirked at him. It was a hippogriff head with two small, stylized wings surrounding it. Draco hadn't thought it was possible for a hippogriff to smirk.

_Think, Draco._

Something that began with S. No, Es. Es… es… estra… espra… espresso. That's right, he had heard it at a muggle cafe and thought it was an odd word, one that wizards wouldn't guess.

"Espresso," Draco said.

"Finally," the doorknocker voiced. Draco heard the locks click, and he opened the door.

"I could replace you, you know," Draco sneered.

"You won't because Harry likes me," the little hippogriff replied.

Draco glared at it, then moved to close the door, muttering to himself. "Harry's probably asleep."

"Harry's not here," the hippogriff said just before the door slammed shut.

Draco stopped. He pulled the door open again.

"What?" Draco glared at it again.

"He's not in the house," it repeated.

Draco slammed the door, harder this time, and started looking for his boyfriend, even though he knew it was pointless. He checked the living room, kitchen, and library, then went upstairs to their bedroom.

"Harry?" he called.

No answer, of course.

The bedroom was a mess. Two drawers of the bureau hung open, both nearly empty. The photos that usually sat on top of it had been knocked to the floor. The closet stood open with its contents spilling out into the room. Harry's robes were gone. In the center of the bed, there was a piece of parchment, addressed to him in Harry's handwriting.

Draco righted an overturned lamp and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up the parchment.

_Draco,_

_I can't stay here with you anymore. We just keep hurting each other. I guess it's time to move on. I wish it didn't have to end like this. After all we went through just to be together, you'd think we could work this out, but it's time to give up._

_I wish I could say I still love you, but I think it's faded. Love requires a level of trust and understanding that we apparently don't have for each other. You were wonderful to me for several years before this, however, and I will never forget that._

_I wish you all the best,_

_Harry._

Draco flopped back on the bed. He wanted to cry. _Malfoys don't cry,_ he reminded himself, but the tears formed anyway.

This was really the end. They had spent so much time trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but their relationship had been falling apart for some time now. They had taken each other for granted, didn't show each other the love and affection they deserved.

Draco had neglected Harry somehow, and Harry had run off with another guy.

_No, that's not what happened, and you know it! _Draco berated himself. _That arse cheated on me! I should be glad he's gone._

But he wasn't. Losing Harry hurt more than anything Draco could imagine. How did this get so bad? When did it all start, anyway?

It had to be last Halloween. It was their first serious argument after the war. The first one they had trouble making up after.

It was the first time Harry had run out on him.

---

_Flashback_

"I am not wearing that," Draco said.

"Why not?" Harry sighed.

"I am not dressing up and looking like an idiot," Draco replied.

"I think you'll look sexy," Harry said.

"I'd look sexy in my new designer robes," Draco scoffed.

"It's a _costume_ party, Draco," Harry said. "Everyone will be dressed up."

"Leave it to the Weasels to come up with something so _common_," Draco sneered.

"It's supposed to be fun!" Draco could tell Harry was getting frustrated, but he refused to back down.

"_Fun _is sipping wine at Blaise's high-society party, not mingling with idiots in make-up," Draco replied.

Harry held up the costume. "Please, Angel?"

"No," Draco said firmly. "And don't bother with the puppy-eyes, it won't work."

"You're so self-absorbed, Draco, can't you just do this one little thing for me?" Harry demanded.

Draco didn't know what to say to that, and after a moment of angry silence, Harry dropped the costume on the bed and stormed out of the room.

Draco cringed as the door slammed.

He looked at the costume on the bed, then at the dress robes he had picked out for himself and Harry, which were hanging neatly on the closet door. He sighed, knowing this was not an argument he was going to win.

"Why pirates?" Draco groaned aloud.

He put on the tight black pants, and the equally tight shirt, which was a cream-colored button down with lace around the wrists. He put the long green coat over it, but left it open. There was also a scarf that draco tossed aside, and eye-liner that Draco was _not _going to wear. He had to draw the line somewhere. He put on a pair of black boots and left the room to find his boyfriend.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table in a similar outfit, except his pants had stripes and his coat was red, and shorter than Draco's. He had a scarf tied around his waist, and dear Merlin, was that eye-liner?

"You make a sexy pirate," Harry said.

"I do, don't I?" Draco looked down to admire himself.

"Narcissistic git," Harry said, but he was smiling.

He got up and kissed Draco lightly. "Thank you." Then he pulled back and presented Draco with two items he hadn't noticed before. "Do you want the pirate hat or the sword?"

Draco took the plastic sword and said, "We're staying for one hour, then we're getting changed and going to Blaise's party. We will drink, mingle, and have sophisticated conversation over dinner." Draco paused. He felt like he was forgetting something. "Oh!" he pointed the sword at Harry's chest." "And you will not get drunk tonight."

"I'm going to need a strong drink to get through Blaise's party," Harry replied.

"No. One drink for you. Maybe two, if you're good," Draco said.

Harry was getting upset. "You can't tell me to-"

"Yes, I can." Draco cut him off. "For our social well-being, Harry, _please_ don't get drunk," Draco half-demanded, half-begged. "When you're drunk you tend to grope me in public, and as sexy as we are, no one at Blaise's party tonight needs to see that."

"I do not," Harry pouted.

"You do, so please, don't get drunk," Draco asked.

Harry nodded, and they apparated to the Burrow, because Draco hated the floo.

---

Draco suffered through an hour and ten minutes of the Weasels' party. Molly had been glad to see them both, but most of the redheads didn't pay much attention to Draco. Harry seemed to be enjoying himself, however. For most of the time, Draco occupied himself by brooding in the corner and eating chips.

Hermione tried to engage him in small talk, but he wasn't in the mood. She said he and Harry looked cute in their pirate outfits, and insisted on taking a picture of them. Hermione was dressed as an angel, and Ron was a devil. How original.

At some point Annabelle, Bill and Fluer's three-year-old daughter, had attached herself to Draco's leg. Everyone but Draco thought this was just the sweetest thing, of course. When Fleur finally detached the little girl from him, Draco found his leg covered in sparkles from her fairy costume.

Harry encouraged Draco to relax and have fun, and made him dance for a bit, but Draco really didn't want to be there. Harry seemed quite put off by his attitude, but didn't push the subject. He let Draco continue brooding in his corner.

---

Draco finally managed to drag Harry away, but not before he had said good-bye to everyone. _Everyone._ Molly hugged Draco, and Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek. One of the twins (Draco always got them mixed up) promised to take the two out drinking one night, and Fleur brought Annabelle back for a kiss.

Then they _finally_ got out of there. He and Harry apparated home, changed quickly, then apparated to the Zabini mansion.

"You're late," Blaise greeted them. He hugged Draco and shook Harry's hand.

It had taken a lot for Draco's friends to accept Harry, but now they were on good terms, for the most part. Draco was glad for that.

"Finally!" Pansy said, "Now we can eat!" She kissed Draco on the cheek and smiled at Harry. Then suddenly, she laughed.

"What?" Draco asked.

Several of the people around them were staring now, and a few of the women began to giggle as well.

"What in the world were you two doing with glitter?" Pansy laughed. "Is this some sort of new kink we should be aware of?"

Draco frowned. Harry looked at Draco and started laughing as well. "Annabelle," he said.

Draco touched his cheek where the little girl had kissed him. He looked at his now sparkling fingers and rolled his eyes.

"It was a costume," Draco started.

"Ooh, what sort of sparkly costumes does Draco wear in the bedroom?" Pansy teased.

"No, it was a little girl who hugged me-," Draco tried to explain.

"Oh, so now you're a pedophile," Blaise chimed in.

"At a costume party. She's the daughter of Harry's friends," Draco finished.

"Now that's just wrong," Blaise said.

They were deliberately misunderstanding to make fun of Draco, and Harry was laughing right along with them. Draco's irritation was getting the better of him. He suddenly turned on his boyfriend.

"Why didn't you tell me I still had glitter on me?" Draco demanded.

"Sorry, love," Harry said, stifling more laughter. "I didn't notice. We were kind of in a hurry."

"Maybe you just like seeing me look like an arse in front of everyone," he hissed.

"No, Draco, I'm sorry. Here, I'll fix it," Harry said. He took out his wand, but Draco just glared at him and stormed away to find the bathroom.

Draco examined himself in the mirror, cleaned off the glitter, and fixed his hair. When he opened the door, he found Harry waiting for him. He glared at his boyfriend.

"Why are you so irritable tonight, Angel?" Harry asked him.

"I'm not irritable," Draco spat.

"You've spent most of the night glaring at me!" Harry accused.

"Maybe because I had to dress up as a glittery pirate!" Draco said a bit too loudly. "We may be gay, Harry, but we don't have to appear flaming!"

His voice rang down the hall. Pansy's mother peeked out of a nearby room.

"Draco, dear, are you all right?" She asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Parkinson," Draco said. He managed to smile for her, but she still looked worried.

"Well, if you need anything…" she started.

"We're fine," Draco assured her.

She nodded and left them alone. The two lovers stood in silence for a moment. Draco looked away from Harry. He couldn't stand to see the hurt expression on his face.

"Let's just go back," Harry said quietly. "They're serving dinner soon."

---

Dinner was elaborate, expensive, and delicious. Harry and Draco ate in near silence, only speaking when they had to. Harry looked wretched. After desert, Draco took his boyfriend aside.

"What's wrong with you? You say I'm irritable tonight, but you don't even try to hide the fact that you're miserable," he accused.

"Sorry, but there can only be one Slytherin ice prince." Harry sneered.

"We're not in school anymore, Harry," Draco said.

Harry sighed. "I'm not good at hiding things, you know that."

"Look, if you'd rather be at the Burrow than here, supporting your _boyfriend_, just go," Draco said.

"I didn't say-" Harry started.

"You didn't have to," Draco said coldly.

Draco looked into Harry's hurt green eyes. Harry closed his eyes, turned and apparated away. Draco decided to tell his friends that Harry wasn't feeling well, and went home.

---

When Draco got home that night, Harry was already in bed. Draco took his clothes off, brushed his teeth, and crawled in next to his lover, hoping the argument would just blow over, like all the previous ones.

Harry was lying on his side, facing away from Draco. He placed an arm around Harry, careful to not disturb him. Harry pulled away from the touch, the first indication that he was still awake.

"I'm still upset with you," Harry said groggily.

"I'm sorry," Draco said. He kissed the back of Harry's neck.

"That's not good enough this time," Harry replied.

They slept as far apart as they could while still remaining in the same bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

A/N: I've got a new story in my LJ, an nc-17 HD one-shot that's too pwp for The link to my LJ is in my profile.

Also, thank you to all my reviewers, you guys make me happy!

---

6

Harry had become captivated by Draco's letter. He was amazed that his boyfriend- no, ex-boyfriend- was able to recollect their relationship in such detail.

He hated the way it was all laid out for him, however. Everything they had been through during the war was right in front of him. Everything they had gone through just to be together. It was so hard back then, but they had been so determined, so confident in their love for one another.

It was horrible that they had to end it all like this. 'We were so in love.' Harry thought. He was beginning to doubt his decision. Harry pushed these pesky thoughts aside and continued reading until one line caught his attention.

Somehow you had managed to work your way into my life. I had to know more about you. It was like I hadn't known you at all for the past five years. And I hadn't really. I had never bothered to get to know you.

Harry sighed. 'You still don't know me, Draco,' he thought. Harry had thought they had made such improvement over the last six years, but it turned out that they didn't know each other as well as they thought. They still had secrets, and they still didn't completely know what the other was capable of.

For example, Harry was unaware that Draco was capable of attacking the person he supposedly loved in public.

Harry returned to the letter.

you could be dy- you-  
I might never see your smile again. Your bright green eyes. You might never again hold me close; kiss me on the cheek, neck, lips. I may never taste the sweetness of your warm mouth on mine again. I can't do this.  
Merlin, Harry, I need you to wake up.

He couldn't do this. He just couldn't keep reading. He suddenly realized that he would never again be the one to make Draco smile. They would never again lay together at night, staring into each other's eyes. He wouldn't ever feel Draco's arms around him, or his lips on his…

No, Harry couldn't think about that. Draco had hurt him. They had hurt each other, really.

'Just because Draco felt this way at some point doesn't mean he still does.' Harry reminded himself. He wanted to cry. He wanted to comfort Draco and hex him into oblivion at the same time. He wanted… well, he really wasn't sure what he wanted.

Up until recently, Harry hadn't been able to picture a life without Draco. Ever since they had secretly begun to spend time together at Hogwarts, he hadn't been able to imagine loving anyone else. But when Oliver came back into his life… and the jealousy…

Merlin. It was just too much.

Harry removed his tear-stained glasses and placed them on the cluttered desk. He dropped his head to his hands and tried to convince himself that it was all going to be okay, with or without Draco.

When Harry thought about the first four years they had been together, he felt like he could give this another chance. From their start at Hogwarts, all through the war, through Harry's stay at St. Mungo's, and through Draco's Death Eater trial, they had stood by each other. They supported each other while they tried to convince the wizarding world that they really were in love, and it wasn't a trick this time. The years after that were happy ones.

This last year, however, had been emotionally draining on them both. They had always been able to work through their problems, but ever since last Halloween, it had all been very… strained.

No, it wouldn't work. It really was over now.

---

flashback

Halloween had been horrible. It just showed that both boys were unwilling to make sacrifices for the other. It proved that they didn't fit into each other's worlds. Harry would never be comfortable within the upper-class, pureblood society of the wizarding world, and Draco would never be able to look past money and bloodlines to accept the people Harry considered family.

They were both just so stubborn!

The day after Halloween Harry and Draco barely spoke to one another. Eventually, Harry couldn't stand it anymore. Rather than try to talk about the situation with his boyfriend, like he knew he should, he flooed to Ron and Hermione's place.

He stood in the study for a moment, but when no one greeted him, he began wandering around the house, looking for his friends. He knew that he was the only person Hermione and Ron would allow to do that.

"Hermione? Ron?" He called, brushing the soot from the floo off.

Hermione's voice floated down the stairs. "In the baby's room!"

Harry followed the voice to the pink, frilly room at the top of the stairs. Hermione was holding a crying 2-month-old Penelope in one hand and trying to clean up spilled baby powder with the other. She had her hair tied back in a messy bun, her clothes were stained with baby food, and she looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

Harry took the baby from her and rocked her in his arms. He began talking and cooing to her, and eventually she calmed.

Hermione finished cleaning up the baby powder and left the room to change her shirt. Harry sat in the rocking chair, hugging his goddaughter close.

"It's amazing how much you are loved, Penny," he said. "I hope you never have to feel hurt like I am now. I wish I could protect you from making these sort of mistakes in life. I can try, anyway."

Hermione came back and smiled. "Now there's a wonderful sight," she said. "Someone other than me taking care of the baby. Merlin knows I love her, but I'm stuck in the house all the time and, well, I just get so restless."

"I can take care of her once in a while," Harry offered.

"I know, but you're always busy with Draco and work," Hermione said.

"I can make time. She's important," Harry replied.

"Thanks," Hermione said.

"When do you go back to work?" Harry asked. "I'm sure St. Mungo's is suffering without their top researcher."

While Harry had been in St. Mungo's, Hermione had been inspired by the Medi-Wizards. This was a place full of new things for her to learn, after all. She went through the Medi-Wizard training, but decided that the hands-on approach wasn't for her. She now worked in the research department, coming up with new magical remedies to help the patients. It was difficult work, but rewarding.

Hermione smiled. "I'm not the top researcher. Not yet, anyway. And I go back part-time next month."

Penelope was falling asleep in Harry's arms, so he carefully placed her in the crib. Hermione turned the baby monitor on and they left the room quietly.

Harry followed Hermione to the kitchen, where she began to make tea.

"Ron's been working non-stop all week, I've had no help with Penelope at all," Hermione explained. "This whole Quidditch strike is driving the Magical Games department mad!"

"It's a shame, the professional teams are probably going to lose some good players over this," Harry said.

"It's a shame that it's forcing my husband to work all the time!" Hermione replied. "Honestly, Harry, Quidditch is fun and all, but there are more important things. Ron has a family to take care of now. I… I really need him here… Maybe I'm being selfish, but I just want the strike to end so I can have my husband back."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that.

Just after Penelope was born, there had been a horrible Quidditch accident at a rather big match, in which both seekers and a chaser got seriously injured. Ever since that match, Q.U.A.B.B.L.E, the Quidditch union, had initiated a strike among the players, demanding better compensation for injury and better working conditions. Several players had already threatened to leave if the demands were not met. The Department of Magical Games and Sports, where Ron worked, was having a difficult time negotiating with the teams.

So, at a time when Hermione needed him the most, Ron was stuck at work all day. Each night, he came home late to sleep, then went back to the Ministry early in the morning. Both he and Hermione hated the situation, but they needed the money. If Ron tried to take the time off during this disaster, there was a great risk him of getting fired. Harry had offered to give them money, but they refused to accept it. He had put the money in a vault at Gringotts for Penelope instead. It would pay for her Hogwarts education when the time came.

Hermione sighed heavily. She poured the tea and placed one of the cups in front of Harry, who obligingly took a sip.

"So why are you here, anyway?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked away from her. "Draco and I… we're not… well, you know what happened last night."

Hermione nodded. Harry had gone directly to the Burrow from the Zabini mansion, and told his friends what had happened. They all agreed that Draco was being an arse, but Ginny had pointed out that Harry was being just as stubborn.

Hermione took Harry's hand. "Did you talk to him about it?"

"He won't listen," Harry replied.

"You tried, though, didn't you?" she pushed.

"Well, yes, but…" Harry started.

"But what?" Hermione was growing impatient. Ginny was right about them both being stubborn!

"Well, I didn't exactly try very hard," Harry mumbled.

"Harry! You can't expect all your problems to just fix themselves!" Hermione scolded.

"Well, why do I have to be the one to apologize? It's his fault, after all!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's partly your fault too. You're just as stubborn as he is! Can't you two put your pride aside for one minute? You love each other. You can work this out if you just try," Hermione insisted.

There was silence for a moment. Harry sipped at his tea and didn't look at his friend.

"What if we can't?" Harry said softly.

"I have confidence that you can. Love requires sacrifice, but it's worth it. I think this is a situation where you both need to realize that," Hermione said.

They finished tea, and Hermione sent Harry home with instructions to sit down and talk to Draco.

Which he did.

It had been difficult, but the two lovers had been able to talk through the situation, with only a little bit of accusatory yelling. Somehow, they managed to apologize, to find a half-way point. Everything wasn't fixed yet, but they loved each other enough, and they figured they could just make the rest up as they went along.

It would all work out eventually, right?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

A/N: Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and thank you to my reviewers! Hearts to all of you!  
This is the first chapter I wrote, and I really like it. : )

---

7

Draco finally forced himself to get up. He went into the bathroom, changed into silk pajamas and brushed his teeth. The bathroom mirror was unkind to him. _I look like crap_, he said to himself. He supposed that this how someone who had just lost the love of his life _should_ look, however, and just went back to the bedroom.

To the bed that he and Harry had shared for five years.

He stood in the doorway, looking at the room. He couldn't sleep there alone.

_You've done it before,_ he told himself. _It's just a bed. If you're tired, sleep._

_But it's _our _bed._

He had always been able to sleep before because he knew that the emptiness was only temporary. He would cuddle with a pillow and tell himself that Harry would be back soon. This time, however, Harry wasn't coming back. It was over.

It was really over.

Draco couldn't think about that, so he occupied himself by picking up some of the mess that Harry had left.

_That arse, leaving me with all this to clean up!_ Draco thought, but at least it gave him something to do besides obsess over the man he had just lost.

No, he hadn't _just_ lost him. Harry had been lost to him ever since Oliver had suddenly turned up and ruined everything. Ever since that morning last winter. That was, what? Three months after the disaster of a Holloween, or four? Time seemed distorted to Draco. The last year had seemed to simultaneously drag by and fly past.

It had to be February.

---

_Flahback_

Draco woke up and groggily rolled toward the center of the bed. He moved to wrap his arm around his lover, and then realized that Harry wasn't there.

Curious, Draco pushed himself up and stumbled out of the room. As he made his way down the stairs he could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen.

"…That's what Oliver said anyway. I don't know how Draco will take it, though," Harry's voice floated his way.

"Take what, love?" Draco asked, wandering into the yummy-smelling kitchen. In his sleepy state, it didn't even occur to him to wonder who Harry was talking to.

A surprised squeak came from the direction of the circular glass kitchen table. Draco rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked over.

Hermione had her head buried in her hands, and her ears were flushed bright red. Harry stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes. At Hermione's frightened squeal Harry turned around and gave his boyfriend a cute little half-smile.

"Good morning, Angel," he said, trying not to laugh.

The full weight of the situation finally hit Draco. He had stumbled out of bed and come to find his lover, not bothering to put pants on.

Hence, he now stood in front of Harry and his best friend completely naked.

He decided to play it off. Hermione was at their house often enough, she should be used to this sort of thing. Draco couldn't count the number of times the annoying girl had flooed in to find Harry and himself in the middle of wild, passionate-

Anyway.

"Morning, Harry, Hermione," he said. He moved closer to his lover and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Woke up, and you weren't there." He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

Hermione was peeking through her fingers at them. "Draco, please put some clothes on," she said.

"I'd rather get Harry's clothes _off_," Draco purred.

Harry laughed and pulled away from him. "Sorry, Angel, can't let the pancakes burn."

"Fuck the pancakes," Draco said, and tugged on the arm Harry wasn't using to cook.

"Um… that would be an… _interesting_ talent…" Harry replied, stifling more laughter.

"You dirty bugger!" Draco exclaimed. "That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"I'm a dirty bugger? I'm not the one wandering around the house naked demanding sex!" Harry retaliated. He was smiling, though, and Draco knew he wasn't angry.

"I'd rather have hot sex with you than pancakes any day," he said.

All this talking about sex, combined with a very naked and needy Draco clinging to him, was quickly sending all of Harry's blood south. Not good. He pushed Draco aside, gently as he could to show he wasn't angry.

"Seriously, Draco, we have guests," Harry said. "I'm sorry, but as much as I love your arse, can you please put some pants on?"

"Guests? Plural?" Draco inquired, looking around.

"Well, Ron will be here soon," Harry said slowly. He knew Draco and Ron still didn't quite get along, much to Harry's dismay.

"Why?" Draco demanded.

"Because I invited him," Harry said. "He's Hermione's husband now. You like her, can't you at least try to respect Ron and her decision to be with him? He respects that you and I are together, even if he's not too fond of you."

This was a speech that Draco was subject to quite often, and he just rolled his eyes and wandered out of the kitchen. "Yeah, whatever."

It was then the floo roared to life, and Ron stumbled into the living room, and right into a very surprised, and very naked, Draco.

"Ron, is that you?" Harry called.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, and dashed toward the voice in the kitchen.

Draco summoned a pair of pants, and stopped to listen to the conversation through the wall. He could use a good laugh, and the Weasel always provided.

"Harry! Why is that git wandering around here without… I mean…" Ron stammered.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said. "But, you know, this is our house…" he trailed off, and Draco guessed that Ron was giving him one of those unsophisticated dropped-jaw sort of looks.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "How much did you see?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting him to just… so…" Hermione seemed to be at a loss for words, which was rare for her.

"That git!" Ron yelled toward the doorway. "Corrupting my _wife_ like that! Look at that, she's devastated!"

He was pretty sure this wasn't the case, as Hermione had confided in himself and Harry repeatedly with her opinion on gay sex. She thought the idea of Harry and Draco together was rather hot, and had offered to be of assistance should Harry and Draco ever want to explore exhibitionism…

Ginny Weasely, however, had always been more blunt about it. She had tried many times to get Harry and Draco to let her watch. Harry had always declined, as the whole situation seemed a bit awkward to him.

Draco laughed. Oh, yes, the Weasel always provided.

Draco reappeared in the kitchen, now clad in Harry's pajama pants.

"You think seeing my bits is devastating to poor Hermione? Having to see your naked body every night would devastate the hell out of me!" He said.

He left before Ron could comment, quickly climbing the stairs.

"None of us needs to see your bits!" Ron called as he made his escape.

The last of the conversation Draco heard before going into the bedroom was Harry's opinion on the whole ordeal. "Actually, I rather like his bits."

---

When Draco re-entered the kitchen, this time showered and fully-dressed, Harry and his friends were talking quietly over pancakes. When Hermione noticed Draco, however, she quickly changed the subject, and began speaking louder.

"That's right, now that the whole strike ordeal has been sorted out Ron can finally take some time off!" She exclaimed.

_Merlin, could she be any more obvious? _Draco thought.

Apparently, it was not obvious enough. Ron scratched the back of his neck and said, "Well, yeah, but I thought we were talking about- oof!"

He was cut off by Hermione's elbow jabbing him in the side.

"What were you talking about?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, love. Have some pancakes," Harry replied, gesturing to an untouched plate of food next to him.

Hermione glared at her husband. Draco sat down and looked around at the trio suspiciously. He _hated_ when the three of them did stuff like this. Secret conversations, inside jokes, words designed to keep Draco out of their little club.

"I'll find out, you know," Draco threatened as he poured syrup on the pancakes.

"Find out what?" Hermione asked innocently.

Draco glared at her and shoved food in his mouth so he wouldn't have to reply to the blatant avoidance. Another thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Where's your baby?" he asked the couple.

"In Molly's loving, slightly over-protective care," Hermione said with a smile.

Ron half-laughed, half-snorted, as he had just taken another bite of his food. He swallowed and said, "That's an understatement. Mum is going to spoil her. We should really find different baby-sitters." He looked hopefully at Harry.

"I'd love to-" Harry started, but a well-placed glare from Draco stopped him.

"Do not bring young children into this house. I've put too much time and money into it to have children's toys and baby-food and puke all over the place," he sneered.

Harry looked away from him. Hermione gave him a worried look.

"Don't worry, Draco," Harry said softly.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and thank you to my reviewers!

---

8

Harry hated reading about how he had gotten together with Draco, and skipped ahead to Draco's next entry. Summer. They had spent the summer apart, of course. What did Draco have to say about-

Oh. Death Eaters. Harry sighed, and seriously considered skipping that part of the letter too, but ended up reading it anyway.

_The Dark Lord was back, and quickly rising to power. He needed more minions. My father volunteered me._

_I protested, but was brought before the Dark Lord anyway, made to kneel in his presence… The Dark Lord threatened me, saying that if I didn't do this he would kill my mother._

_I cried, but agreed. I couldn't sacrifice her_.

Harry knew that. They had spoken about Draco's cooperation with Voldemort at length. That didn't make it right, however, and it had always been a sensitive subject between them. Harry always said that there was nothing worth becoming a Death Eater for. Draco always countered by saying that if he had a family, Harry would think differently.

Because of his decision, Draco had nearly been sent to Azkaban to rot with his father. Harry had saved him. He had gone to Draco's trial against the recommendations of his doctors, and against the will of some of his friends. Mostly Ron, actually. Harry argued that as Draco had actually helped the Order during the war, he was entitled to a fair trial. Ron had never actually agreed.

Harry was supposed to be resting in St. Mungo's, but at the time, Draco was his whole world. Harry _had _to save him. The only two people who knew Draco's story were himself and Dumbledore, and, well, Dumbledore couldn't exactly be there to speak on Draco's behalf.

The evidence was clearly against him, but Harry managed to persuade the Wizengamot that Draco was working as a spy for the Order, and had taken the Dark Mark against his will. The witches and wizards had a hard time ending that particular case. The name Malfoy meant 'Death Eater' to them, but there was Harry Potter, representing him. Finally, they had decided that as Harry had saved their world, they couldn't deny him what he wanted. Besides, would Harry Potter be in love with a murderer?

_I should have let him go to Azkaban,_ Harry thought. _He was guilty, after all. If anyone but me had represented him, he would have been convicted._

But he knew he never would have let that happen. Back then, Harry couldn't picture a life without Draco. In fact, he was still having difficulty grasping the concept. He supposed that eventually it would hit him, and he would break down, but in the meantime there was mostly just anger.

Why couldn't he just accept what Harry wanted to begin with? The day he told Draco that he needed a change was… well, why the hell did he have to take it wrong? All he had to do was say okay and accept that Harry just wouldn't be around as much for a short while.

But, no. He had started an argument that just snowballed over the next several months. Harry may have been a jerk about it, but Draco had driven him away. If Draco had just supported Harry, he wouldn't have done what he did.

The argument had started after that breakfast with Ron and Hermione.

---

_flashback_

After breakfast Ron and Hermione left to enjoy the rest of their day together. They would be shopping in Diagon Ally, then having a nice dinner at a new muggle restaurant that Hermione had been dying to try.

Before they flooed away, Ron gave Harry a friendly hug, and Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Tell him, okay?" she whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry nodded.

"Good luck," she said, and then they were gone.

Harry went back to the kitchen to clean up, only to find Draco already doing it. He dropped a stack of dishes in the sink and turned to glare at Harry.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"You're lying," Draco said. "You know you can never get away with lying to me."

Harry didn't say anything.

"Are you going to tell me?" Draco asked through gritted teeth.

"Later," Harry replied evasively.

"Why not now?" Draco demanded.

"If we start now, we'll be late for work," Harry said.

Draco looked at the clock, then stormed out of the kitchen. As Harry began to attack the dishes, he heard a loud crack, indicating Draco had gone without him. He decided to leave the dishes for the help staff that Draco insisted on keeping, and flooed to Diagon Ally.

---

Harry and Draco hadn't gone back to Hogwarts to complete their final year. Instead, they had purchased Quality Quidditch supplies. After the war, Harry found that he had no desire to work with the Ministry, and had easily fallen into the nice, quiet, _safe_ occupation of shopkeeper alongside the man he loved.

Surprisingly, it had been Draco's idea. Initially, Harry had laughed at the idea of Draco in customer service, but it turned out that they made a great team. Harry dealt with problems with customers, and Draco did the finances (something Harry was never very good at). In every other aspect, they shared the work, from advertising, to inventory, to custom broom repairs. They were both knowledgeable in the subject, and with Harry's reputation and Draco's keen eye for business, their shop had quickly become a success.

They had eventually hired Seamus, Ginny and Zacharias Smith, who had been a Ravenclaw chaser when they were in Hogwarts, to help out.

Ron and Hermione had tried to convince Harry that Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without him, but Harry stuck to his plans. It turned out to be a good thing, as his absence allowed Ron and Hermione to get closer than they would allow themselves when he was around all the time.

---

Harry entered the shop via the floo in the back room and stumbled over a few stray boxes before righting himself. He dusted off his robes with his hands and wiped the soot from his glasses. He changed into a set of midnight blue robes with the store's logo on them, and went into the main shop.

Brooms lined the walls, and there were displays set up around the store, showing off sets of Quidditch balls, Broom-care kits, and other supplies. There were two small dummies in full Quidditch gear floating near the entrance. One had a beater's bat and the other had a quaffle. Any time someone walked by, the dummy-beater would swing at the dummy-chaser, which would duck and fly once around the dummy-beater, then resume its position. Every once in a while, the dummy-chaser wouldn't duck in time, and Harry or Draco would have to re-set the spell.

"Great! You're here," Seamus greeted Harry. "I'll be off then."

He took his store robes off and headed to the back room.

"Thanks for covering for us," Harry called after him.

"No problem, mate," Seamus called back.

Harry turned to Ginny, who was standing behind the register. "Thanks for letting us have the morning off."

"You don't have to thank me!" Ginny scolded. "You own this shop. _I _work for _you,_ remember?"

"Err… right," Harry replied. "It wasn't busy, was it?"

"It was quite boring, actually. You know we're never busy on weekday mornings," Ginny replied. "We only had three customers, and one didn't even buy anything. Seamus and I restocked the pennants, then spent most of the morning playing exploding snap."

She gestured to a display with pennants and action-figures from several professional Quidditch teams, which was, in fact, more full than it had been yesterday.

"Oh," Harry replied. He always felt silly for worrying so much over the shop. "Where's Draco?"

"Taking inventory in the back," Ginny replied.

"Thanks," Harry said.

He headed to the back room, wondering how he had missed his boyfriend when he came in.

"Draco?" he called.

Draco's blond head appeared over a pile of boxes.

"Come help me," he demanded.

Harry walked around the stack Draco was working on, and Draco pointed to another pile. "Those are the new Comet 360's we got in last night, and beneath them are some Firebolts. There should be six brooms in each box. We need to bring some of the Comets out to be displayed, but we're only short one Firebolt."

Harry nodded, and the two worked in silence for a while. Draco finished before Harry did, put the boxes away, and left Harry alone.

When Harry entered the main shop, arms full of brooms, he found Draco and Ginny both helping customers, with a group of young boys ogling over the brooms. He put a Firebolt on the display rack next to the others, and set up a display for the Comet 360's. The maker of the brooms had provided a banner that read "NEW! Comet 360! Faster and more agile that the Comet 290. You won't want to be without one for this Quidditch season!"

Harry was setting up the banner and one of the brooms in the window when he heard Draco's irritated voice reached his ears.

"Look, if you want something cheap, you get a Shooting Star or a Twigger, but if you want something reliable, you get a Comet or a Nimbus," Draco was saying through gritted teeth.

Harry looked toward the voice, to find Draco standing next to a very confused-looking witch, and holding various brooms.

"Well, um… what about that one?" She asked, pointing to a Firebolt.

"You can't afford that one," Draco replied.

Harry decided to intervene before Draco got violent. He was great at business and finances, but customer service wasn't always his cup of tea.

"Hello, Miss," Harry greeted, stepping between her and Draco. He placed a hand on her arm and guided her away from the seething blond. "Draco doesn't look well, do you mind if I take over?"

"You're Harry Potter!" the witch exclaimed happily, pointing at his scar.

"Err… yes, I am," Harry replied.

"I've read all about you! It's fascinating, your past," she said.

"I'm sure it is," Harry said, and quickly changed the subject. "What sort of broom are you looking for?"

"Something reliable, but I haven't much money," she replied, holding up a rather small coin purse.

Harry scanned the brooms. "How about a Cleansweep Seven?" he suggested. He pulled one down and handed it to her. "Cleansweeps are reliable, and new ones are a bit costly. But this is an older model, so it's not quite as expensive."

The witch ended up buying the Cleansweep, and by the time the transaction was done, Draco was nowhere in sight. Harry had other things to worry about however, as more customers had wandered in.

Draco came back close to dinner-time, when the shop was beginning to empty out. He sent a very tired-looking Ginny home, and took over her position at the register. When the shop was finally empty, Harry approached him.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"In the back, doing finances," Draco replied. "Rent on the shop is due next week, and I had to balance the books."

"We could've used your help out here," Harry said.

Draco shrugged and opened the register. Harry stayed quiet while Draco counted the money, made a note of the amount, and put most of it in a bag. He slammed the register drawer shut, and looked up at his boyfriend.

"We need to stop at Gringott's before we go home," he said.

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Draco asked suddenly.

Harry gave in. "I got an offer that I would very much like to take."

"Regarding what?" Draco asked.

"Do you remember Oliver Wood?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's queston.

"Wasn't he your Quidditch captain at Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. He's the keeper for Puddlemere United now," Harry said. "Puddlemere needs a new seeker desperately. They lost both their seeker and reserve seeker during the strike. Ollie recommended me."

"You want to play Quidditch again." Draco confirmed.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?"

Harry sighed. "If I do this, I won't be able to spend a lot of time at the shop, or with you for that matter. Practices have already started, and the season doesn't end until August. So I'll have practice four days a week from now until mid-june, then I'll be traveling to the matches with the team until the end of the season."

"So I won't see you for two months." Draco said.

"Very possibly," Harry replied. "And you'll be running the shop by yourself all summer."

Draco was shaking his head.

"I've been standing beside you for the past four years, ever since I got out of St. Mungo's," Harry said. "I need you to support me now."

"I don't know if this is a good idea. What if you get hurt again?" Draco asked.

"This is different. I got hurt in a war, not playing a game," Harry replied.

"So you're just going to leave me like that?" Draco demanded.

"I'm not leaving you forever, I'm just going on a trip for a while. It doesn't mean I don't love you, it just means that I need something new in my life," Harry replied. He hadn't meant to say that last part, and it surprised him almost as much as it did Draco. There was silence for a moment while they both processed this information.

"So I'm not good enough for you anymore," Draco said dryly.

"No, you are plenty good enough for me, I just need a new experience, okay? I'm not ready to settle down and spend the rest of my life like…" He looked around the shop. "Well, like this."

"I thought you were happy," Draco said.

"I thought I was, too," Harry responded. "But when this opportunity came up, I realized how much more I could do."

Draco looked away from him. Harry placed a hand on his boyfriend's cheek and turned his head back.

"Don't you miss it? The games, the crowds? The only Quidditch we've played since we left Hogwarts were a few pick-up games with the Weaselys," Harry said.

Draco scowled and pulled away from his touch. "If you'd rather have Quidditch than me, go," he said.

"I'm not leaving you!" Harry said again. "You're deliberately misunderstanding because you don't want me to go!"

The shop door opened then, ending their conversation.

"Ohh, is this a bad time?" a familiar voice said. Harry turned. Bill Weasely stood at the door.

Harry gave him a brotherly hug. "What do you need?" he asked.

"Broke another broom," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe Fleur should consider a different mode of transportation," Harry laughed.

"She's very insistant on learning," Bill replied.

"Right. So something cheap then?" Harry asked with a smile, and picked out a few brooms to show his friend.

---

Harry pushed his thoughts aside and continued reading Draco's letter.

Well, he tried, anyway. His thoughts kept wandering to that night. Could he have presented it differently? No, Draco would still hate the idea. Harry had known from the start that Draco wouldn't be happy that he wanted to play Quidditch. Of course, it wasn't the Quidditch part that upset him, it was the part where Harry would be leaving for a while. Draco had somehow gotten it into his head that Harry was _his_, and Harry felt like he had been gradually losing his freedom.

He had needed Quidditch in order to regain that.

Harry returned his attention to the letter. Unfortunately, Draco's words were not making this whole breaking-up thing any easier.

_We promised not to let little things come between us._

_Then we promised not to let the big things come between us either, because with each of us seemingly on different sides of this war, it wasn't safe. I say seemingly. You know what I mean. You know I will always stand by you._

_I realized that night just how much I loved you._

But they _had_ let the little things come between them. If they had stuck to that promise, then the fact that Harry wanted to play Quidditch wouldn't have been such a big deal. They would've been able to work it out. But since they were having so many little problems already (which neither of them wanted to address), it made the big problems even more difficult.

Harry wanted to cry.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

9

Draco hung a robe that had fallen back in its place in the closet. He shoved some of the boxes over and began to pick up the random objects that had fallen out of them.

He really hated cleaning, but he hated a messy house more, and Harry knew it. Damn him for leaving the room in such a state!

Draco shoved some of the junk into a box and pushed it aside violently. He noticed a picture frame lying upside-down, and picked it up. The photo in it showed himself and Harry kissing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. It had been taken the day they opened the store. In the photo, Harry and Draco looked at the camera, then at the shop. Harry pointed to a sign that read, "Now open!" Then Draco pulled Harry into the kiss. They stepped back and did it again. And again. And again.

Draco threw the photo across the room angrily. It hit the wall and he could hear the glass crack.

Damn it! No matter what, all he could think about was Harry. This house was full of him, and their memories together. Draco had to get out. He looked out the window. It was raining. Fuck it all, at this point he just didn't care.

Draco pulled his robes on over his pajamas and stepped outside. The rain felt oddly refreshing. He didn't even care that his designer clothes were probably getting ruined. As long as he was out of that house, and away from that lying, cheating arse.

Draco ran down the street. It was all so liberating, somehow. Running through the rain like this, he was free from love and all the heartache it had brought him. Harry couldn't affect him. He cleared his mind and apparated to a nearby park.

It was a large public park, with picnic areas, and nature trails that ran through a lightly wooded area, and a duck pond and a playground for kids.

Kids. Harry had wanted kids. At one time, Draco had thought he wanted kids too. But as he grew up, he realized he just didn't want to deal with all of that. Harry had never had a real family though, and he had always wanted to adopt.

_You're not supposed to be thinking about Harry_, Draco berated himself.

_Then why did you come here?_

This had become one of Harry's favorite places. He would spend hours walking the various trails, just thinking. Occasionally, Draco would go with him, even though he really didn't like mucking about in nature. He liked that Harry was enjoying himself, and that's what mattered.

_It's okay,_ Draco told himself. _I'll just go somewhere else._

But where? Everything reminded him of Harry. They were together for six years. They did everything together. There was nowhere he could go and not be reminded of the git.

He gave up and slumped on a bench.

Why did Harry need Quidditch? What had gone so wrong between the two of them that Harry was no longer satisfied with their relationship? Why did they have to argue so much? Couldn't they just appreciate each other and respect what he wanted?

Of course not. They were both too bloody stubborn. They always were.

---

_flashback_

"I'm going to play Quidditch," Harry said.

"You're not going to just run off and leave me here!" Draco said.

They were home. Harry was sitting in bed, and Draco had just gotten out of the shower. He stood at the foot of the bed wearing only a towel around his waist, his wet hair falling in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving you, I'm just exploring a part of my life and myself that doesn't involve you," Harry said rather rationally.

"Why do you need something that doesn't involve me?" Draco said. "Don't you love me?"

"Of course I love you, I just need something new," Harry assured him.

"You've got everything you need here, with me," Draco said. "I can give you anything money can buy."

Draco did not want to be arguing about this now. He was nearly naked, and his boyfriend was topless in bed.

"I'm not happy," Harry said quietly. He looked away from his boyfriend.

There was silence while both of them let this last statement sink in.

"I don't want you to go," Draco said finally.

"I have to do this, Draco!" Harry cried, looking up.

Draco lifted his head and ran a hand through his hair, letting Harry get a good look at his lithe body.

"Why? Is life with _me_ not good enough anymore?" Draco demanded, but it was a half-hearted demand. He really wanted this conversation to be going in a different, sexier direction.

Harry looked at Draco with big, green eyes full of lust, and Draco knew the argument was over.

"Life with you has been nothing short of amazing," Harry replied softly, letting his gaze take in the sight of his wet, sexy boyfriend clad only in a towel.

Draco climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry's hips. Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck. He ran his fingers through blonde hair and pressed his lips against his boyfriends.

Draco responded eagerly. He nipped at Harry's bottom lip, begging entrance, and Harry parted his lips. Their tongues battled for dominance for a moment before Harry pulled away.

"Are we okay?" He asked breathily.

Draco wanted to say no, but his penis was telling him something entirely different. He nodded anyway and captured Harry's lips again.

Draco lifted his hips enough to pull the towel off without breaking the heated kiss. He tossed it aside, then tugged at the cotton pajama pants Harry was wearing. Harry kicked them off, along with his boxers.

Draco wrapped his hand around Harry, who arched into the touch. Draco felt Harry's hand slide down his back. Harry squeezed at his arse, then slipped his hand between the cheeks. Draco moaned as one of Harry's fingers slipped into his hole, then another. Draco suddenly felt wetness, and realized that Harry had done the lube spell silently.

He lifted himself off of Harry's fingers and positioned his opening over Harry's erection. He slowly lowered himself. Harry laid back on the bed. Draco stilled for a moment while his muscles adjusted to Harry's length. Then he began slowly moving his hips. It felt amazing, to be filled like this.

Draco ran his hand along Harry's chest, admiring his boyfriend. Harry took Draco's hand and kissed the fingertips in a gesture of affection. Draco thrust harder, and Harry moaned. He loved that sound coming from Harry's lips. Draco sped up his thrusting. He needed to come.

Harry reached between them and began stroking Draco's erection in time with the thrusting. They were both nearing climax, and the sensation was too much for Draco. He came into Harry's hand, and the sight of his boyfriend in mid-orgasm sent Harry over the edge as well.

When both were spent, Draco collapsed on top of Harry.

"So, we're good?" Harry asked, breathing hard.

"Yeah," Draco replied.

---

Draco sat in the rain, wondering why they did that to themselves. They had buried their problems beneath sex, because it was always so bloody good between them. They shouldn't have done that.

Well, he couldn't change that now.

It suddenly occurred to him that he would never have mind-blowing sex with Harry again. Something in his groin protested at this turn of events.

But hey, he was Draco Malfoy. He was rich and beautiful. There had to be plenty of blokes willing to get some of that. He didn't need Harry for sex.

He didn't need Harry at all, in fact. He could get by perfectly fine without that git. Without his lying and cheating. Without his help at the shop. Without his yummy home-cooked meals. His cute smile, his warm kisses, his comforting arms…

_Merlin, I can't do this._

It was raining harder now, and Draco decided to go home. Back to that horrible house full of their memories.

_Damn you, Harry Potter!_ Draco thought as he apparated home.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

10

_Quidditch was our undoing, wasn't it?_

Harry stared at the letter in disbelief. The irony was too much. The situation had been completely different, but still, it was Quidditch that had gotten in the way of their plans again. Regardless of whatever Draco had meant when he wrote that line, it couldn't apply more than it did now.

'Damn you, Draco Malfoy!'

Harry read about the Quidditch accident that had revealed their relationship.

_I heard the bludger hit you. I turned around in time to see you lose your grip on your broom. I looked around the pitch quickly. I was the closest one to you, and damned if I was going to let the guy I had fallen so hard for die like that._

_So I dived._

_I swooped under you, caught you in my arms, and lowered you safely to the ground, slowly to keep my balance while holding you. Do you remember? You were barely holding on to consciousness._

Harry remembered it all as if it were in slow motion, or a dream. It had never quite seemed real, even as it was happening.

_I placed you on the ground and held you against me. I looked into your dazed green eyes and told you that you'd be okay. You were safe now. You were with me._

_Our teammates rushed over._

"_You saved me," you said. "My Angel."_

Harry finished the entry crying, because the love and protectiveness that Draco had showed back then had been non-existent in their relationship for the past few months. He wanted it back, but he just didn't think they could make it work anymore.

Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep.

---

The dream began innocently enough. Harry was flying on his Firebolt, sweeping through the clouds, enjoying the wind rushing by. He looked down to discover a Quidditch game going on below him. He looked at his arms, and realized he was wearing his Howarts Quidditch robes. He supposed that he should be looking for the snitch.

He flew a bit lower, looking at the faces of the players. His team was in red. There was Ron, Ginny, Oliver, Fred and George, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia.

Wait, that was too many players.

Harry watched the keeper, and realized that Oliver and Ron were actually one person, and they kept switching. At the moment Harry was looking at Oliver, but then Oliver circled the goal hoops, and when he came back around Harry found he was looking at Ron. Angelina, Katie, and Alicia kept switching places. Fred and George kept yelling, "Oi, heads up!" before hitting the bludgers. Ginny was weaving in and out of the game, apparently looking for the snitch.

The rival team was wearing green. Slytherins. Six large, rabid-looking boys on brooms rushed around the field, bullying the smaller (but faster) Gryffindors.

And then there was Draco. He was sitting on his broom on the edge of the pitch, eyes darting around, searching for that little flash of gold. He looked up, noticed Harry, and smirked. Harry held the silver gaze intently as he descended to the game.

"Finally!" A voice broke through Harry and Draco's moment.

Harry looked toward the voice to find Ginny circling him.

"You're back," she stated simply.

"Err… yeah. Where did I go?" Harry asked.

Ginny just shrugged and sped toward the stands to let Harry take his place in the game.

Draco approached Harry. "Ready to lose, Potter?" he drawled.

"Not on your life," Harry replied with a smile. He loved a challenge.

It was then that they both saw the flash of gold. There was a moment when the whole world stilled around them. They regarded each other with a competitive stare, and then they were off.

All of Harry's attention was focused on the snitch. It was almost within reach. The world blurred around him. Almost there. Almost. Got it!

Harry suddenly felt sharp pain in his head and shoulder. It slowly registered that he had been hit by something. He lost his grip on his broom and fell backwards.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He grabbed for his broom, but it was out of reach now. He felt the wind rushing by. He was looking up at a sunny sky.

_This day is too beautiful to die,_ he thought.

Then an angel appeared. He was pale, blonde, and wearing Quidditch robes.

No, not an angel. Draco.

Harry tried to grab the outstretched hand, but he couldn't. No matter how close it seemed, it was always just out of reach.

_So this is how it ends,_ Harry thought as he hit the ground.

---

Harry jolted awake, breathing hard. He was okay. It was just a dream. His glasses were askew on his face, and he had a cramp in his side from falling asleep in an awkward position on the old couch.

Harry was suddenly aware of a baby crying from somewhere nearby. He took a moment to remember where he was. Hermione and Ron's study. That meant the crying baby was Penelope. Harry fixed his glasses looked around. His eyes focused on a baby monitor on the desk. Hermione must have left it there the night before.

Harry pushed himself off the couch and wandered out of the study. He walked through the familiar house to the baby's room. It was smaller than his and Draco's home, but comfortable. Hermione had a practical design sense, so there was nothing overly expensive or gaudy. Ron was a bit of a packrat, however, so there were piles of random objects in odd places.

Harry smiled as he passed a stack of back-issues of the Quibbler with little action figures playing a game of Quidditch over it.

The baby's room was the only frilly place in the house. Everything was delicate and lacy, and designed by Molly Weasley. It had been a surprise for Hermione and Ron, who had never had the heart to tell Molly they didn't really like it. The room had grown on them, however, and now they didn't mind so much; although they both agreed that should they have another baby, they would insist on decorating the room themselves.

Harry carefully lifted Penelope from her crib. Early morning sunlight streamed through the window and touched the child in his arms, making her red hair glow. She was beautiful to Harry. He hugged her close and rubbed her back, whispering comforting words. He could smell something less-than-pleasant on her though, and dreaded the inevitable.

He looked at the little girl in his arms, then at the changing table. He could wake Hermione or Ron. No, he couldn't do that. Besides, he wanted a baby of his own someday. He couldn't avoid diaper-changing forever.

He placed Penelope on the changing table, and gathered the necessary items. New diaper, baby powder, wipes.

As he set about his task, Penelope kicked at him.

"Don't- ow!" he grabbed her legs. "Don't do that!"

He managed to clean her up and put a new diaper on her with minimal injury to himself, and quite a few giggles from Penelope. He sat her on the floor.

"Now, don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," he said to her, before leaving to wash his hands.

When he returned, Penelope was banging on a toy xylophone. Harry rushed over and picked her up.

"No, no, you don't want to wake Mummy and Daddy," he said.

She giggled in response, and Harry melted at her smile. He sat in the rocking chair and cuddled the little girl, wondering how it was possible to love someone so much. He had loved Draco, but this was different. He felt that he would protect this little girl with his life.

"You're adorable, Penny," he told her. "You're lucky, too, to have so many people who love you. You've got Mummy, and Daddy, and me, and your uncles and aunts, and Grandma Molly. I never had that growing up. You're lucky." He paused, thinking. "And when I finally found someone who I thought loved me, who I thought would give me everything I need…" he wasn't sure where he was going with this. This definitely wasn't a topic for a one-year-old. "I lost him," Harry finished.

Penelope yawned and cuddled into him.

"That was sweet, Harry," Hermione said from the doorway.

Harry turned his head to look at her. "Hermione! How much did you hear?"

"Enough," she said.

Penelope looked ready to fall asleep again, so Harry put her back in the crib and tucked her in. He placed a teddy bear next to her and she wrapped a little chubby arm around it.

He stepped out of the room and closed the door softly. Hermione hugged him.

"You'll make a great father someday," she said.

"I'm gay, I may never have that opportunity," Harry replied.

"Being gay doesn't change anything. If you want a family, you have every right to one," Hermione replied.

Harry was silent for a moment. "Right after I got out of St. Mungo's, Draco and I talked about adopting a baby and starting a family someday. We both decided we weren't ready then, but we would keep the possibility open."

"Harry," Hermione started.

"No, listen," Harry interrupted. "After a while, it seemed like… I don't know… like Draco just didn't want it anymore. He had gotten distracted or something. When you had Penelope, I opened the subject up again, and he shot it down. He said that the life we had was good, we didn't need to do anything to change it so drastically."

Harry paused. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Hermione felt like she should say something.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"And it was like, he just shot down everything that I was hoping for, as if the mere suggestion was stupid," Harry finished.

Hermione wanted to help him, but she didn't know how. She pulled Harry into another hug in yet another ineffective attempt to comfort him.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.  
Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

11

'Malfoys don't cry.'

Despite how many times he told himself this, Draco couldn't stop sobbing. He lay on the bed where he and Harry had made love so many times, and cried for everything he had lost, every mistake he had made.

He hadn't cried this much since Harry had been in St. Mungo's. It was different though. Back then, their fate was beyond their control. He had thought Harry was going to die. He had even been prepared to die with him.

Draco suddenly remembered the potion he had bought back then to make the possibility of Harry dying easier. Draught of Eternal Sleep. He still had it, hidden with the letter in the back of the closet.

He remembered a time when the thought of losing Harry was so unbearable that he was willing to do such a thing. He wasn't that desperate anymore, but he did have an urge to look at the letter. In the past, when he was having problems with Harry, all he needed to do was read a bit of it, and he would remember just how much he loved the prat.

"But I don't want to be in love with him anymore," Draco said to the empty room.

Yes, you do, a tiny voice within him replied.

"Shut up!" Draco told it.

You're looking for excuses now. You may be angry with him, but you don't want to lose him.

"Yes, I do," Draco said. "He cheated on me. No man is worth that."

Even after what you two went through during the war?

The letter was calling to Draco. He pushed some piles of junk aside and dug around the back of the closet, where he knew the letter should be. He couldn't find it. He began digging through the closet in a desperate search. The longer this went on, the more panicked he became.

Where was it?

It couldn't go anywhere on its own! No one could take it because the only two people who knew of its existence were himself and Hermione. And even then, he was the only person who knew where it was.

Hermione had always encouraged Draco to show the letter to Harry, but he never had. It held so many personal thoughts and feelings and confessions that he was afraid it would scare Harry off. It was probably an irrational fear. Besides, the whole thing was over and done with. Their lives had changed so much since that was written that it all seemed irrelevant now.

Somewhere deep in his mind, was a little Hermione-like voice that kept saying it didn't matter, love doesn't change. Draco pushed this little voice aside and kept searching.

Hermione had saved his sanity. If it weren't for her, he never would have gotten through that time. Hell, she was probably the only thing keeping the Medi-Wizards from kicking Draco out of St. Mungo's. He was rude, annoying, and sulky. He would bother the hospital staff, mope in his corner, and complain loudly when he didn't get his way. He had acted like a child.

After Harry was released from St. Mungo's, he had always gone out of his way to help and support Hermione, even after she married the Weasel.

Their friendship had made Harry incredibly happy, but he knew that Harry always wished Draco would get along with all of the Weasels just as well. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen. He appreciated Molly, because she had accepted him. He and Ginny had slowly built a friendship after Harry hired her for the shop. He had never gotten to know Bill and Fleur well, as they were busy with their new family, and the twins had always made an effort with him, but they still weren't on particularly good terms.

And Ron, Harry's best friend, had never fully accepted him. Though, to be fair, Draco had never made much of an effort to befriend him either. They had a certain level of tolerance for each other, but their relationship would never be more than that.

Draco stopped searching.

Hermione and Ron. That's where Harry was. He didn't know why it didn't occur to him sooner, but of course that's where he would go. Who else would take him into their home in the middle of the night, and in such a state?

Draco wondered if Hermione had ever told Harry about the letter.

What if he took it? When Draco had got home, the room had been thoroughly rooted through, and most of Harry's things were gone. What if he had found the box when he was packing?

He had to talk to Hermione. He went to the floo, but found his way blocked by magic. He looked at the clock. Of course, Hermione and Ron would close the floo at night. He was sure they didn't want anyone coming into their house unexpectedly at four in the morning. He was sure Ron would freak out if he unexpectedly showed up inside their house, anyway.

He sighed and flopped back on the bed.

If Harry hadn't been so adamant on playing Quidditch, none of this would matter! Harry would be lying here in Draco's arms, and they would be happily continuing the life they had built for themselves.

The life that had made Harry unhappy.

Merlin, why was it all so complicated?

---

Flashback

Harry went to Quidditch tryouts despite Draco's protests. Draco stayed behind to run the store.

"Where's Harry today?" Seamus asked.

"Quidditch," Draco said with a scowl.

"Oh, right! Do you think he'll make the team?" Seamus asked. He was excited about this. In fact, it seemed that everyone but Draco was excited about it.

Draco just scowled some more and shoved a box of broom care kits into Seamus' hands. "These need to go out on the floor," he said, and pointed him to an empty display table.

Draco did, in fact, think Harry would make the team. Harry had always been an amazing seeker. Draco thought that even if Puddlemere wasn't desperate for players, and Harry had some real competition, he could make the team.

The only customer in the shop at the moment was being helped by Ginny, so Draco busied himself by straitening the display of Quidditch Through the Ages. The books didn't really need to be straitened, but Draco needed to keep himself busy in order to not blow up at the people around him.

He felt like he had done something wrong, that he was somehow driving Harry away. He pushed the thought aside, however. They had a good life. It was Harry's fault for messing things up.

More customers began to stream into the shop, and Draco was kept busy for the rest of the day with business. He managed to keep his anger in check until just before closing.

A burly wizard entered the shop, dragging a boy of about eleven or twelve by the hand.

"I need a racing broom," he demanded. He gestured to the boy. "For him."

Ginny and Zach had already gone home, and Seamus was doing inventory. With no employees readily available, Draco sighed and approached the man.

"If you want a good racing broom for kids, you probably want a Cleansweep or Nimbus," he said.

The man seemed dissatisfied with that answer. He pointed to the Comet 360 display. "Isn't that the best new broom on the market?"

"Yes, for professional players and adults who know how to control them," Draco replied irritably.

"I want a Comet 360," he demanded.

Draco looked at the boy. He looked scared, and half hid behind his father.

"He won't be able to control it," Draco said.

"How would you know what my son is capable of?" the man sneered.

Draco's hand immediately went to his wand. "This is my broom shop, I should know a thing or two about them," he said through gritted teeth.

The man looked Draco over. He was smaller, weaker-looking, and openly gay. "I don't need crap from a fucking ponce," he said.

"I don't need crap from an arse who clearly wouldn't know a broomstick from his own-"

"Hey!" Seamus' voice ended the argument. "Let me take this, Draco." He pushed his way between the blonde and the large wizard.

Draco snorted in anger and stalked away.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

12

Harry took a long shower, then put on a pair of loose cotton pants that Daco loved because they tended to slide down and show off Harry's toned abdomen. He wandered into the kitchen and began pulling ingredients for waffles from the cupboards. He had the batter mixed and the waffle iron heated before Hermione came down.

"Harry!" she cried. "You don't need to cook! This isn't even your house!"

"I know, but you guys let me stay here, so I figured it was the least I could do to thank you," Harry replied.

"You really don't have to." Hermione tried to take the bowl of batter from him.

"No, I don't mind cooking. It keeps my mind off of… things," Harry said.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. "Do you miss him? You can talk to us, you know."

"No… yes… maybe. I know," Harry babbled.

Hermione looked worried.

"Breakfast will be ready in a bit," Harry said, and went back to cooking, effectively pushing his friend's efforts to help aside.

---

Breakfast was awkward. It was rare that Harry felt so out-of-place with his two best friends, but today he did.

Ron sat Penelope in her high chair as Harry served the waffles, complete with strawberry topping.

Draco loved strawberries.

_No, you're not thinking about that prat!_ Harry told himself. Even though they had used the fruit, along with chocolate sauce, for sexual purposes on multiple occasions.

That was not a good line of thought to be dwelling on, and Harry forced his attention to the family in front of him.

The happy, loving family. Something that Harry would never have with Draco. Something he might not ever have with anyone. Harry couldn't imagine loving another man the way he had loved Draco. Even Oliver.

Ron chopped Penelope's food into little bits, and began helping the little girl eat. Penelope seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to eat by squishing the food between her fingers and shoving her whole fist in her mouth. Harry had to smile at that. Ron kept trying to feed her from a spoon.

"She thinks food is yummier eaten from her hands than from the proper utensils," Hermione explained. "Or maybe it's just more fun that way?"

Harry laughed and Ron snorted in irritation, as all his efforts were systematically ignored. He gave up and dropped the spoon.

"Did you sleep at all, mate?" he asked Harry.

"A bit," Harry answered.

"Did you read the letter?" Hermione interrogated.

"Most of it," Harry replied uncomfortably. "Look, Hermione, I appreciate what you're trying to do… I think… but just because Draco wrote all those things five years ago doesn't mean he still feels that way," Harry said.

She took a bite of her waffle while she thought about his answer.

"This is really good, Harry," she said. "And, love like yours doesn't change."

"It's one of Draco's favorite meals," Harry replied, ignoring the bit about love. "Actually, he really likes anything with strawberries."

Hermione smiled. "I know that deep down you two still love each other."

"Hermione, don't say that to him!" Ron exclaimed. "We finally get rid of Ferret, and Harry can find a real boyfriend."

"Ron! That's horrible!" Hermione scolded. "Harry spent _six years_ with Draco. They _loved _each other. The least they can do is talk about this."

"Ferret's been shitty to Harry ever since his Quidditch try-outs, can't you just let it go?" Ron demanded.

"Um, actually-" Harry tried to cut in, but his friends weren't listening.

"For Merlin's sake Ron, are you always going to call him Ferret? He has a name, you know!" Hermione said.

"Now that Harry left the git, I have no reason to ever use his real name," Ron stated.

"Um, guys?" Harry tried again.

"I know they've been having problems lately, but they've been through worse," Hermione said.

"What could be worse than this? They lied to each other, cheated on each other, and generally made each other miserable for months!" Ron argued.

"Actually, Draco didn't-" Harry was cut off by Hermione again.

"I'd call anything involving Death Eaters worse, and the two of them got through Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, and Draco's trial. Most people would never be able to do that," Hermione said.

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry called above their bickering.

They both stopped and looked at him, as if they hadn't known he was sitting there the whole time.

"I appreciate that you both care so much, but I'm perfectly capable of deciding what to do with my life on my own," Harry said.

Hermione looked hurt.

"We're sorry," Ron apologized.

"We just want to see you happy again, is all," Hermione explained.

"I know," Harry replied. "But this is something I'll have to figure out on my own, okay?"

They both nodded.

The trio spent the rest of breakfast avoiding topics regarding Harry's love life.

---

_Flashback_

Quidditch try-outs had been easy enough for Harry. He found that even though he hadn't played in a while, it came naturally to him. He caught the Snitch easier and faster than the other two prospective seekers, and was awarded the position after only two hours. The Puddlemere United team and reserve team watched from the stands, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally cheering for good maneuvers.

The team manager, Philbert Deverill, shook his hand and gave him a practice schedule. He told him what was expected of his players, ranted about teamwork, and gave Harry a hearty pat on the back that nearly knocked the small seeker over.

The team members came down to the pitch to greet their new seeker. Oliver greeted Harry with a big hug.

"It's been a long time!" he said.

"Yeah, it's good to see you," Harry replied. "How have you been?"

"Good, but I've got nothing on you, from what I hear. A steady boyfriend, a successful Quidditch shop. You're living a nice, quiet, evil-psycho-dictator-wizard-free life," he said with a smile.

Harry laughed. He had never heard Voldemort described like that before.

Oliver then introduced Harry around to the team.

The beaters were a pair of friends from London, Arthur Lore and Ford Kenley. They were both rather large and overly-friendly in a way that reminded Harry of Hagrid.

Oliver then presented a Spanish chaser, Marco Hernandez, who Harry would think was rather cute if he were gay and didn't keep talking about his girlfriend in Madrid.

The other two chasers were Morgan Lovett and Jennifer Sage, who were so different from each other that Harry wasn't sure how they got along. Morgan was tall, lean, and sporty with a competitive attitude in everything, and Jennifer was smaller, chattier, and a bit ditzy. She was dressed fashionably in an outfit that showed off her girly shape, and kept talking about shopping and popular wizards in the media. Morgan kept rolling her eyes and trying to shift the conversation to a different topic, to no avail. Morgan was also the team captain.

Puddlemere United kept a beater, a keeper, and two chasers, one of which doubled as a seeker, on reserve. Dan McNally, Jordan Bay, Kayla Pidge, and Nina Hadden came to practices and sat on the sidelines during games. They were all very young, and hardly ever got to play in the matches, but for the most part they seemed optimistic anyway.

When they were done, Oliver offered to take Harry out to dinner with the team in celebration.

"I don't know… I should go home, Draco will be waiting for me," Harry said.

"Oh, do you two have plans for tonight?" Oliver asked.

"No, but… well, he wasn't too keen on me doing this to begin with, and if I'm late he'll just think…" Harry stopped. Oliver was giving him an odd look. "I sound silly."

"No, I completely understand," Oliver said. "I'll just tell everyone that Harry Potter can't come because he's hen-pecked."

Harry stared at Oliver for a moment. He had a challenging look in his eyes. _I'm not hen-pecked,_ Harry told himself. To Oliver he said, "I'm coming."

---

They had gone to a pub in the wizarding district of North Puddlemere. They were served good food and firewhiskey. Harry had gotten a bit drunk, but not enough to lose control. He became a bit touchy-feely with Oliver, but the keeper didn't protest.

Harry arrived home only an hour after Draco. It wasn't late, but it was later than he had promised Draco that morning. He found his boyfriend reading in the library.

"Where have you been?" Draco asked him.

"I made the team!" Harry shouted. He had a big, goofy, drunken grin on his face.

"Are you drunk?" Draco asked unnecessarily.

"Maybe a bit," Harry slurred. "We went out for dinner, then we had firewhiskey!"

He sounded so excited about it all. In all honesty, he hadn't been this excited about anything in a while.

Harry pushed Draco's book aside and climbed in his lap. He kissed him sloppily, then laughed.

"I love you, Angel," he said.

"I love you too," Draco said sincerely, but he was frowning.

"You know what else I love?" Harry asked softly.

"What?" Draco replied.

"Quidditch!" Harry practically yelled.

Draco scowled and pushed Harry off of him. He put his book away, then led Harry up to their bedroom and helped him get ready for bed.

"It's not late, but you need to go to sleep before you do or say something stupid," he told Harry.

"I'm not stupid, you're stupid," Harry said. He sounded like a child.

"Something like that," Draco muttered, trying not to get angry.

"I'm not tired," Harry protested. He wrapped his arms around Draco, and said more seriously, "I'm excited about this. Are you happy for me?"

Draco looked into the bright green eyes. "Yes," he lied.

---

A/N: For those of us who are American: hen-peckedwhipped. Oliver's making fun of Harry for doing whatever Draco says (though this is an exaggeration anyway.) I try to avoid blatant Americanisms, as I'm pretty sure British wizards wouldn't know any American slang.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and Hearts to all my reviewers!

---

13

Draco woke up and reached an arm out to hold his boyfriend. He was met with an empty bed.

_Ugh, Quidditch,_ he thought.

No, that wasn't right. Harry wasn't with his Quidditch team. Draco's eyes shot open as the events of the previous day flooded back to him.

Harry was gone.

Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes. He wished it had all been a dream. He looked around at the room that was still a mess, at the sunlight that was streaming annoyingly through the window, at the clock on the nightstand.

It was nearly eleven. Draco was late for work.

All Draco wanted to do was go back to sleep and pretend that the previous day had never happened. And while he was at it, he could pretend that the previous three or four months hadn't happened either. Instead, he forced himself out of the bed and got dressed.

---

Draco stood in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. He had been about to walk inside when a thought suddenly struck him: _What if Harry was in there?_

They couldn't possibly work together. They would just end up fighting again. Draco definitely wasn't ready to see his ex-boyfriend yet. A small part of him was afraid that he would break down and cry if he had to see Harry's face.

The door opened suddenly, shocking Draco out of his thoughts. Ginny stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip, and a rolled-up banner clutched in the other.

"You're late," she said with an irritated frown that reminded Draco a bit too much of her mother.

"Err… sorry," Draco replied.

Ginny gave him an odd look. The only person she had ever heard Draco apologize to was Harry, and even then, it was a rare occurrence.

"Actually, after what happened yesterday, I'm surprised you showed up at all," she sighed. "At least you're more responsible than Harry. Didn't even bother to owl or floo."

She said this last part more to herself than Draco, but it gave him the answer he needed. Harry wasn't around. She brushed past Draco and hung the banner above the shop window. It announced a free care-kit with every broom purchased. The promotion had been Harry's idea.

Harry always had good ideas. He thought he wasn't as good as Draco at business, and while that may have been true when it came to finances, Harry knew how to pull customers in. As long as Draco kept him away from the account books, they were fine.

Honestly, Draco had a feeling that customers often stopped by the shop just to get a glimpse of Harry. The war had ended five years before, but Harry's fame hadn't faded at all. Witches and wizards of all ages were still star-struck when they were in the same room as him. It had always sort of been a burden on the couple, as they often found themselves in the public eye. They just couldn't keep their private affairs, well, private, no matter how hard they tried.

But that was done now. Not for Harry of course, but for Draco. He could finally have the peaceful life he always wanted.

A nice, pleasant, relaxing life.

Without Harry.

Which meant he could stop thinking about the git.

Any time now.

"Merlin, why can't I get him out of my head?" Draco called out loud.

Ginny snorted in irritation and Zach looked confused.

_Harry,_ Ginny mouthed to him.

"I'm not an idiot, I saw that!" Draco yelled at her.

Some of the customers were staring now, but Draco didn't really care.

"Stop yelling," Ginny told him, eyes narrowed. "You're making a scene."

"It's my shop, I can make a scene if I like!" Draco said.

Ginny grabbed his arm and marched him to the back room. "Do inventory or something, just stay off the main floor until you've calmed down. You're going to scare away the customers," she ordered.

"I hate you," Draco said icily to her retreating back.

"I'm sure you do, love," she replied dismissively.

Draco didn't actually hate her, he just hated that she was right.

---

_Flashback_

Harry's practices were held on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. He was usually gone early, and back after Draco was asleep. He spent Saturdays helping in the Quidditch store, and Wednesdays and Sundays resting. Draco began taking those two days off to be with his boyfriend.

After only three weeks, it was taking a toll on them both. Harry was exhausted most of the time because of the strenuous work, and Draco was feeling neglected. Harry only cooked once a week now, if Draco was lucky, and most of what little conversation they had centered on Quidditch. Harry was so excited about it all, and Draco just wasn't. In fact, he was growing lonely without Harry around so much. They had done _everything _together for the past six years. Draco had gotten used to his presence.

What killed him was that Quidditch was a part of Harry's life that Draco couldn't be a part of. Harry had gone out of his way to involve Draco in every aspect of his life, but not this time. He had new friends that Draco didn't know, and new experiences that Draco couldn't relate to. He hated the whole situation.

---

It was Wednesday. Harry was laying in the grass next to the little lake, and Draco was in the process of firing the newest maid.

"I don't care if you have a baby to feed, that snake was a priceless Malfoy heirloom!" Said glass snake was now sitting between them on the floor, in pieces.

"I'm so sorry, Sir." The poor girl tried to apologize, but Draco ignored her.

"You're incompetence is unbelievable. You'll get your last check by owl, now get out of my sight!"

It was obvious that the girl was trying not to start sobbing. She turned away from Draco, and ran strait into Harry, who had been drawn into the house by the yelling. He caught her in his arms, whispered an apology, and let her go.

"That was a bit uncalled for, Draco," he said.

"Uncalled for?" he repeated angrily. "Look at it!" He pointed to the glass pieces.

Harry took out his wand. "_Reparo_," he said, waving it at the broken snake. The snake reformed, but there was a piece missing. Draco scowled at it.

"It's not a big deal," Harry said, picking it up.

Draco snatched it away and tossed it into the trash. Harry sat heavily on the couch. He patted the spot next to him, and Draco grudgingly complied. Harry wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist and snuggled into him. Draco allowed Harry to slide his hands beneath his shirt and kiss his neck. He leaned back, enjoying the touch. He was quickly becoming aroused.

Harry stopped kissing him and snuggled into his shoulder. "Love you, Angel," he said sleepily.

After a few moments, Draco whispered, "Harry?"

"Mmm?" came the reply.

"You're not going to stop there, are you?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and hugged Draco tighter. Draco supposed that was a yes. He sighed and pulled Harry into a comforting hug. He kissed his scar and settled back to let the new seeker rest, even though it left him unsatisfied.

Draco had almost fallen asleep when Harry said, "Are you okay?"

Draco didn't know how to answer this truthfully, so he settled for a lie. "Yes," he said. "I'm always okay when I'm with you."

Harry seemed satisfied with this answer, and began kissing Draco's neck again.

"You don't have to do that," Draco said.

"But you're so yummy," Harry replied.

"Aren't you sleepy?" Draco asked.

"Not as much as I thought I was," Harry replied. This didn't make much sense to Draco, but he decided not to question it.

Draco gave in to the sensation. Harry began tugging at Draco's pants, and soon the two boys were naked, their clothing quickly discarded and in a messy pile on the floor.

Harry, who was back on top of Draco, ran his hands along the smooth, pale chest.

"You should lay in the sun with me sometime," he said.

"I just burn," Draco replied, and pulled the brunette into a deep kiss.

Harry responded by eagerly pressing his tongue into Draco's mouth and running his hands along his stomach. Draco's skin tingled at the touch, and he arched up into Harry needily.

Harry moved his kisses down Draco's jaw, and neck, then moved to suck on a pink nipple. Draco let one of his hands tangle in Harry's hopeless mop of hair, enjoying the sweet, wet warmth Harry's tongue left on his body. Harry moved down the blonde's chest and abdomen, and finally took one of his balls in his mouth. He gently rolled the sensitive flesh along his tongue.

Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and he moaned in pleasure. Harry let go and kissed his way up Draco's erection. He licked at the head, then took the whole thing in his mouth. Harry proceeded to pleasure his boyfriend, licking and sucking in all the right places. Draco's moans of pleasure were growing louder and more demanding, and Harry could tell his boyfriend was close.

He pulled away suddenly, and moved up to kiss the blonde passionately. He grabbed his wand and cast the lube spell, spreading the liquid on himself and inside of Draco. He pushed Draco's knees back and slowly pushed into his boyfriend.

Draco let out a hiss as his muscles stretched to accommodate Harry. The two lovers paused for a moment, then Draco bucked his hips to let Harry know he was ready.

Harry took him hard and fast, as it quickly became apparent that neither of them would last very long. They came almost simultaneously, with moans of pleasure and gasps of completion.

As they lay contentedly together afterwards, Draco lamented that they couldn't have sex like that as much as they used to. Ever since Harry had begun Quidditch practice, their sex-life had been cut nearly in half. Granted, they still had more sex than the average couple, but it still felt like a loss to Draco. He understood that the sport was taking its toll on Harry physically, as he hadn't played in almost six years. He felt a bit selfish about it, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from invading his mind.

Draco heard a soft snore, and realized that Harry had fallen asleep. He kissed his boyfriend lightly, and tried to do the same.

---

Draco was brought back to the present by the irritating voice of his best friend.

"Day-dreaming on the job, Malfoy?" Blaise smirked at the blonde.

Draco scowled at the dark-skinned man. "You shouldn't be back here."

"The Weaselette didn't want you out there for some reason, so she sent me back here," Blaise said.

"I got angry and sort of made a scene earlier," Draco explained.

Blaise's expression softened. "How are you holding up, Dragon?"

"How many times have I told you not to call me Dragon?" Draco replied.

"Don't avoid the question," Blaise said icily.

"I'm not avoiding the question," Draco mocked.

Blaise stayed quiet, waiting for his friend to come around.

"Don't look at me like that!" Draco yelled suddenly.

"Like what?" Blaise asked innocently.

"Condescendingly," Draco said. "Like you know something I don't."

"Where is Harry now?" Blaise asked.

"I don't know," Draco replied.

"I know you better than that. The first thing you would have done after you left my place was track him down so you could give him a piece of your mind, and possibly hex him into oblivion," Blaise said with a small smile.

"Well, you don't know me as well as you think," Draco sneered.

"Where is he?" Blaise asked.

"With the Weasel and Mudblood, of course," Draco said. He had shocked himself with this statement. He hadn't called Hermione Mudblood in years. They had been on friendly terms for so long. Surely, the break-up wouldn't change that?

Of course it would, Draco reflected. Hermione was Harry's friend first and foremost, not his. He pushed the thought aside.

"You still love him, Draco," Blaise said.

"He cheated on me," Draco replied.

"You love him despite that," Blaise said.

"It doesn't matter!" Draco yelled. "I can't forgive him for that! What if John cheated on you?"

Blaise took a deep breath, then said, "John and I broke up last week."

"Figures," Draco sneered. Blaise let the comment slide. "I can't forgive him," he repeated when his friend didn't answer.

"Harry's not the only one at fault here!" Blaise yelled. "You've always held him back, you know. How long has he been unhappy, and how long did you ignore that?"

"What would you know? You haven't held a relationship more than ten months!" He was yelling now.

"I was with John for eleven months," Blaise corrected.

"Whatever! It's nothing like what Harry and I have!" Draco said.

"Had," Blaise corrected.

"Right, what we had," Draco said angrily.

He wanted to break down and cry, but he couldn't. He was Draco Malfoy, and Malfoy's don't cry, especially in front of fellow pure-bloods. Over lying, cheating half-bloods. Even if the particular half-blood was the love of his life.

Blaise held out his arms, and Draco fell into them, sobbing.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and Hearts to my reviewers!

---

14

Harry placed the dirty dishes in the sink and turned the faucet on. As he reached for the soap, Hermione stopped him.

"Harry Potter, as much time as you spend with us, you do not live here and you do not need to do dishes," she scolded.

Harry turned away from the sink and smiled. Well, he tried to smile, anyway. Happiness, even fake happiness for his friend's sake, was not an easy emotion to grasp right now.

"I made the mess," Harry explained.

"Just get out of here," Hermione laughed. Harry gave in and watched as she cast a spell that she had learned from Molly. The dishes began to clean themselves, and Hermione went about wiping down the counters.

Harry wandered out of the kitchen and back to the letter. He picked it up, glared at it, and threw it back down. This was not helping matters! He and Draco had loved each other, yes, but things change._ People_ change. Draco was not the same person he had been when they started dating, and consequently their relationship had taken a turn. It had affected every part of their relationship except the sex.

They still couldn't keep their hands off of each other. No matter how bad things got between them, the sex was always good. A good portion of their arguments ended with the two of them naked and kissing passionately. They used it as a distraction from the real problems, because, though their relationship seemed to be deteriorating, they were still very much physically attracted to each other.

Harry's thoughts wandered to Draco's sweet kisses, his creamy skin, his hard cock and tight-

Not going there. Harry's groin was responding to those thoughts, and that was not a good thing. He did not need to be sexually frustrated as well as emotionally frustrated.

He began to read the letter again, if only to distract himself from sexy thoughts of his boyfriend. No, ex-boyfriend.

_We walked slowly down to the Great Hall hand in hand. Neither of us said anything. I suppose we were both thinking about what would happen when we walked in together._

_It was terrible. Everyone looked at us. The whispers started, passing along with rumors that had formed over the past day. Wondering just what the extent of our relationship was. You looked at the floor. I smirked and pulled your face up to mine, pulling you into a soft kiss._

This was not helping matters. Harry did not need to be thinking about Draco's soft kisses and warm embrace, or his body pressed against his own…

Didn't he have more to say about Death Eaters and Quidditch, and things that didn't lead to sexy thoughts?

On second thought, Quidditch wasn't a good topic either.

Harry read a bit more, but it was only making him more upset. He dropped the parchment and wandered out of the study.

He found Hermione reading to Penelope. Ron was hastily getting ready for work. He grabbed a briefcase, and leaned over to kiss his wife and daughter. He smiled at Harry as he passed into the study. Harry heard the floo roar to life, then Hermione's soft voice as she read.

Harry leaned back against the wall. This was something he would probably never have. He had always wanted a family like this with Draco, but that dream had been shattered. There was a time when he could picture the two of them raising a child together as a happy little family. It was his ideal life. He wanted to give some young witch or wizard the love and opportunities that he never had as a child. Now, it looked like the closest he would get was to help with Penelope, and honestly, Ron and Hermione were perfectly capable of doing that on their own.

He could always find another guy, of course. But as irrational as it was, in his mind, there was still only one man who could provide that dream for him. And he was gone.

Harry had pushed him away.

_He pushed you away first,_ Harry thought.

Penelope giggled at something and pointed to the book. Hermione smiled and said, "Yes, that's right! That is a duck!"

Harry couldn't handle this anymore. He went back to the study, gathered his things, and walked out of the house.

"Harry?" He heard Hermione call his name as the door slammed shut. Before she could follow him, Harry apparated away.

---

_Flashback_

Harry loved the Quidditch practices. It was liberating, flying like that again. He loved the challenge of the drills, and the thrill of working with people who were just as excited about the game as he was.

The team was great. They helped and supported each other. Philbert and Morgan were tough but fair. Morgan was known to swear at the other players all through practice, but it was always with a certain level of affection. She was a lot like Oliver when he was the Gryffindor captain.

"What the hell was that, Wood? You're supposed to _block_ the rings, and instead you're letting Hernandez figuratively ass-rape you and your position! Kenley, if you don't stop missing the fucking bludger I'll shove that bat strait up your- hey!"

Jennifer had thrown the quaffle at the back Morgan's head, but the chaser easily flipped around and caught it.

"It you ever do that again, Sage, I'll knock you off that broom and replace you so fast your ditzy little head will spin. Potter! What the hell are you laughing at? Did you get the snitch? No, I didn't think so. You've reached your time limit anyway, start the drill over!"

As Harry flew past Oliver, he heard the keeper say, "Bit of a bitch, isn't she?"

Harry paused and smiled. "She only wants us to be good. You were kind of like that when we were in Hogwarts, you know?"

Oliver smiled back. "I was never that bad, was I?"

"Wood! Potter!" Morgan ended their conversation.

Harry sped off, and Oliver resumed his position protecting the rings.

---

After practice Oliver approached Harry.

"You look beat," he said amicably.

"So do you," Harry commented.

Harry felt like he had been through a long training session with Mad-Eye Moody. He felt pain in muscles he didn't know he had, and he was so exhausted he didn't think he could apparate home. He was seriously considering flying to the nearby town to floo.

"Going home to Malfoy?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, wondering where else Oliver thought he would be going.

"So you're, you know, happy with him, right?" Oliver said slowly.

"Of course," Harry answered automatically.

This wasn't quite the truth, but he didn't want their personal problems to become public. But this was Oliver, Harry reasoned, he wasn't going to go to Witch Weekly or the Daily Prophet with all of his and Draco's secrets. For some reason, Harry felt like he could trust him.

Oliver was staring at Harry, like he was waiting for an admission of some sort. Or maybe he just appeared that way to Harry.

"No," Harry said finally. "I'm not always happy with him. But we work through it."

This of course, was only true up to the point where sex came into the picture. Once one of them began to lust for the other, any attempts to work out problems became futile.

"You deserve someone who makes you happy," Oliver said.

"I know," Harry replied. Harry smiled and looked up at Oliver with big green eyes that could melt anyone. "I love him," he said. It was true, despite everything. Harry knew that no matter what, he would always love Draco on some level. He had been such an important part of his life.

"You have beautiful eyes," Oliver said.

Harry was slightly taken aback at the sudden change in subject. "My… what?"

"Ah, nothing," Oliver said, but Harry was blushing slightly. "I, uh… I sort of had a crush on you when we were in school," he admitted.

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't know you were… uh… that you liked…"

"I'm gay," he confirmed with a laugh. "It's not a big deal. I mean, you're gay too."

Harry laughed too. "You're right. Why didn't you ever tell me you liked me?"

Oliver shrugged. "You were too young. It would have just confused you, right?"

Harry had to agree. He had only been thirteen when Oliver left Hogwarts.

"Oh, but you've got a good life going for you now," Oliver said. "You don't need me mucking it up."

"Are you seeing anyone now?" Harry wasn't sure why he was asking.

"No. I was in a serious relationship a while back, but nothing since," Oliver replied.

"Oh," Harry said. He wasn't sure what sort of answer he had been hoping for.

"You should go home, I'm sure Draco's waiting for you. I know if I had a boyfriend as cute as you, I would be waiting, anyway," Oliver said. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turned once and apparated away.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

15

Blaise stayed with Draco until he had calmed down enough to go back to work. They talked about relationships, and how difficult love could be. They talked about the short affair that they had once had together.

That had been before Harry, of course. Once Harry had found his way into Draco's life, the blonde didn't have room in his heart for anyone else. As much as Blaise hated to admit it, he didn't think they could be happy without each other. Before Draco started dating Harry, Blaise had been the one that Draco had depended on, his most trusted friend. But then, suddenly, Draco didn't seem to need him anymore. It had hurt at first, but Blaise was used to it now.

After Blaise left, Draco made a half-hearted attempt to apologize to Ginny. "I'm... err… I shouldn't have lost my temper. It's unprofessional and… err…"

"It's okay," Ginny said. "This must be horrible for the two of you."

Draco nodded, and the subject was mercifully dropped. He busied himself with work around the shop to get his mind of Harry. It didn't work. Especially when people kept asking about him.

Draco was beginning to get thoroughly irritated, when one of their regular customers, Brevis Birch, came in. He was carrying two brooms, one of which was obviously broken.

Birch was the captian of the Tutshill Tornados, and Draco had been worried that when Harry made Puddlemere United he would find a new place to get supplies for his team. His team and Harry' s were rivals, after all. Thankfully, Birch had continued to do business with Draco and Harry, despite this, stating that the service was just good, and he trusted the couple to act professionally.

"Malfoy!" he called across the shop.

Draco approached him and shook his hand. "I heard about your last game," Draco said. "Tough luck with that one."

"Yeah, it happens," Birch said.

The Tornados had lost their last game by a mere ten points because one of the other team's chasers took out their seeker at the last moment. The accident had only served to increase Draco's worries about Harry playing the position, even though he knew his boyfriend was an exceptionally good flyer.

"What do you need today?" Draco asked.

"I have two brooms need to be repaired," Birch said, shoving the items into Draco's hands.

One was cracked down the middle of the handle, which meant the cushioning charm would have to be re-placed. The other had become unbalanced, and tended to swerve to the left. Draco priced the job, and then they talked for a while, mostly about Quidditch. This was fine with Draco, and actually helped him calm down again, until Birch brought up the Puddlemere team, which inevitably led the conversation to Harry.

"Where is he today?" Birch asked.

"We broke up," Draco replied coldly.

"What?" Birch frowned. "You two can't break up."

"Why not? You must know what happened yesterday. Even if you weren't there, which I doubt, it was in the Daily Prophet this morning," Draco sneered.

"I just thought, you two could work it out. You've been through worse. How many couples could get through a war like you and Harry did? How many relationships do you think could survive being directly attacked by You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort," Draco corrected. It amazed him that people still couldn't say the name.

"Right, him," Birch said.

Draco had to admit he had a point, but that didn't make what Harry did hurt any less.

"We've been through a lot, but I don't think I can forgive him this time," Draco said.

Birch looked skeptical. "One kiss doesn't mean-"

Draco's glare stopped him. "Trust me. It wasn't just one kiss."

Draco thanked Birch for his continuing business, as he felt a good shop-owner should, then stormed out of the store and into Diagon Ally.

It wasn't just one kiss. Draco knew Harry's relationship with Oliver ran deeper than that, and it hurt. What made it worse was that Harry cheating wasn't even the major issue. It was a big issue, but it had only come about because of the other things.

Like how they didn't trust each other, and couldn't respect each other. They had pushed each other away. It was driving Draco crazy that he had pushed Harry so far that he had fallen into the arms of someone else. All the disagreements, all the petty little arguments, every request or desire that went unfulfilled, had contributed. They had fallen into a dreary routine of broken promises that they couldn't break out from.

---

_Flashback_

"My first game is this weekend," Harry said.

Draco looked up from his dinner. He wasn't hungry, and had been absently mashing his peas with his fork.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you all right, Angel? You look really distracted." Harry looked at him worriedly.

"No, I'm fine," Draco answered, then realized that his reply contradicted itself.

Harry gave him a concerned look.

"Really, I'm fine," Draco confirmed.

Harry looked like he was going to push the subject, but then changed his mind. "So will you be there?"

"Where?" Draco asked.

"My first Quidditch match with Puddlemere," Harry said.

"Oh. No. One of us has to run the shop," Draco scowled at his boyfriend.

"It would mean a lot to me if you were there," Harry insisted.

"The world doesn't stop for you," Draco sneered.

"What does that-"

"While you run off to play your little game all the time, I have to take care of things here," Draco said.

"It's only one afternoon! Leave Ginny or Zach or Seamus in charge!" Harry exclaimed. "The shop will be fine."

"I'll go to a different game," Draco said.

Harry looked down at his plate so he wouldn't have to look into those cold gray eyes.

"We don't do things together anymore," Harry said.

"That's because you're always at Quidditch practice," Draco replied with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"No, even before that. We were together all the time, but we just went about our daily lives. Honestly, it wouldn't have mattered if you were beside me or not, because we just… I don't know. We could be in the same room, but it often felt like we were miles apart," Harry tried to explain.

Draco had felt that way too, but he didn't say anything. It was almost like they didn't actually need each other anymore. They loved each other, but they didn't go out of their way to do anything special for each other. Not often, anyway. All the love in the world couldn't make up for neglect like that.

"We used to have fun together," he said quietly. "We used to do romantic things for each other, and we proved the whole wizarding world wrong when they said that our relationship couldn't possibly last. More importantly, we challenged each other. Even back in Hogwarts. We never did anything the easy way. We always had to push each other. It was an endless series of mind games, but it was always fun, and always made us more passionate with each other. We've lost that."

"We don't have anything to prove anymore," Draco said. "We can finally sit back and enjoy the easy life we've worked for. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I thought it was," Harry whispered.

Draco shoved some food in his mouth so he wouldn't have to reply to that. They fell into a tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

16

Harry walked into the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately aware of several pairs of eyes on him.

_I should be used to that by now,_ he thought. He was the savior of the wizarding world, after all.

He paid for a room for the night, and allowed a house-elf to take his luggage upstairs.

Harry sat at the bar and ordered a butterbeer. He looked around and glared at some of the people who were staring. They quickly turned away. Satisfied, Harry turned back.

"You're Harry Potter," the barman stated as he served Harry his butterbeer.

"Well spotted," Harry said coldly.

"You're in the papers again, you know. Wish I could've been at the World Cup," he said.

"Do you have a copy of today's Daily Prophet here?" Harry asked.

"Sure do," the barman said, and fetched it for Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said again, and turned to the paper. The front page had a large photo taken after the match. As he watched his own actions play before him, it occurred to Harry exactly why everyone was staring at him. He realized how the whole situation must look to them, and mentally kicked himself for getting into that situation in the first place.

Harry pushed the Daily Prophet aside and placed his head in his hands. Why did he do that? He had no idea his actions would cause such a reaction.

"Are you all right?" a high-pitched voice came from Harry's left.

Harry looked up to find a witch sitting next to him. She was petite and pretty, and couldn't have been more than a few years older than himself. She carried a copy of Witch Weekly with her. One of the headlines on the cover announced "Harry Potter's secret love affair," accompanied with a smaller version of the photo that appeared in the Daily Prophet. She moved to place a hand on his shoulder, but Harry flinched away.

"Where's your boyfriend?" the witch asked in her annoying voice.

Harry suddenly wished he had ordered a firewhiskey rather than a butterbeer.

"Draco and I broke up," he replied bitterly.

"No, I mean your _new _boyfriend," the witch clarified with a tacky smile.

Oh, yes, Harry could really use a stiff drink right about now. He did not, however, want to remain in a public place if he was going to be harassed like this. He decided to go mope in his room.

Harry glared at the witch as he got up. "You really shouldn't read that rubbish," he said, pointing to her copy of Witch Weekly.

As he walked away, he could hear her muttering something about the rudeness of famous wizards.

Harry didn't actually make it up to his room, however. He stopped walking when he saw two familiar heads of red hair that could only belong to Fred and George. The twins had their backs to him, but as soon as he approached they turned and greeted him warmly.

"Hey mate!" Fred said. "Heard you broke up with-"

"Don't," Harry said. "I don't want to hear about the git."

Fred nodded, and George asked, "Are you staying at Ron and Hermione's again tonight?"

Harry assumed that Ron told them that, and wondered just how much they knew about the whole situation, or rather, how many questions they would ask.

"No," Harry said. Fred looked about to ask him about it, but Harry stopped him. "Long story. I'm staying here tonight."

"Here?" George asked.

Harry nodded. It hadn't occurred to him before that without Draco, his life was so unstable. He had no home, no job, and at the moment, no way to access the account he and Draco shared at Gringotts, as Draco had the key. He felt a bit lost and vulnerable, and had no idea what to do about it.

"You can't stay here!" Fred said. "Come stay at our place."

Harry started to shake his head no, but knew the twins would never accept that for an answer. None of the Weasleys would, actually.

"I'll just go get my stuff," Harry said.

---

_Flashback_

Puddlemere United's first match was against the Wimbourne Wasps, who turned out to be tough opponents. Harry was nervous, but not nearly as nervous as he had been the first time he played at Hogwarts. Each member of the team flew out onto the pitch as his or her name was called by the announcer. Harry was called last. He flew once around the pitch, then joined his teammates in the center of the pitch.

As the Wasps filed out of the locker room, Harry scanned the crowd. He found Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny sitting together, but Draco wasn't with them. The referee blew the whistle, and Harry's attention retuned to the game.

The Wasps got the quaffle first, and the chasers sped toward the goal, passing the ball between them. Morgan stole the quaffle and passed it to Jennifer, who did a barrel-roll and sped down the field in the opposite direction. One of the Wasp's beaters hit a bludger toward her, and she managed to pass the quaffle to Marco before diving to avoid getting hit. Arthur hit the bludger back toward the Wasps, while Marco scored the first goal.

Harry circled the pitch idly, watching the game and keeping an eye out for the snitch. The other seeker, a small girl on a broom that could probably go faster than Harry's, appeared to be doing the same. A bludger suddenly came at Harry, but Ford flew by and hit it before Harry even had time to react.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem, mate," Ford replied distractedly, and flew off to help Oliver, who currently had two balls headed for him. Oliver dodged a bludger but missed the Quaffle, letting the Wasps score.

Harry let his attention wander back to the stands, even though he knew he shouldn't. His eyes sought out the Weasleys, and he was surprised to see a tuft of blonde hair among the redheads. He caught Draco's eye and smiled. _Better late than never._

Hermione waved her arms to catch Harry's attention, then hooked her thumbs and made a fluttering motion with her fingers.

Right, Harry was supposed to be looking for the snitch. He found the other seeker, who still seemed to be circling idly. Harry's eyes swept across the pitch, searching for that elusive flash of gold.

Just over an hour into the game, Harry saw it. He cautiously moved toward it, not wanting to alert the other seeker. But then she saw it too, and both of them dived.

The two of them were side by side. Harry stretched out his hand. The snitch swerved suddenly to the left, and Harry was given a slight advantage over the other seeker. His fingers closed around the gold ball, and he landed lightly in the middle of the pitch.

The game ended with a final score of 270 to 180. Harry's teammates gathered around him to celebrate their victory. Arthur and Ford gave Harry over-zealous back-pats, and Morgan congratulated each teammate on something they did well. Marco said she always did that, in an attempt to make up for the hell she put them all through during practice. Jennifer squeeled happily, like a little girl.

Oliver landed beside Harry and pulled him into a congratulatory hug. Harry sank into the supportive arms in a hug that lasted a bit too long to just be friendly. When Oliver pulled away, Harry looked up, and the two boys locked their gaze for a moment. Harry smiled at the affection he found in Oliver's eyes. He decided to treat it like the affection of an old friendship, ignoring the feelings that were beginning to stir within him.

The two teams went back to the locker room to change, then Puddlemere United had a quick meeting so Deverill could give his opinion on the match. He pointed out some of the things they needed to work on, then let them go.

Harry met his friends outside the stadium. They congratulated him on winning the match, and Harry began to talk excitedly about the game with them. Then he noticed Draco looking irritated.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked.

"I go out of my way to see you, and I don't even get a kiss." Draco said.

Harry stepped up to him and kissed him, tongue and all.

"My eyes!" Ron cried.

"You don't have to watch, Weasel," Draco sneered.

"You're in a foul mood today," Harry said softly. He wanted to talk to Draco, but he didn't want to alert his friends to the fact that they had been having problems.

"When I find my supposed boyfriend in the arms of another man, I think I have the right to be in a foul mood," Draco replied bitterly.

"What are you- oh, Oliver? He's an old friend, and he was just excited about winning," Harry explained. "Ollie's no threat to you." He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Ollie?" Draco repeated the nickname.

Harry just shrugged, and went back to talking about Quidditch with his friends.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

17

The twins still lived above their joke shop. As they walked there, Fred and George talked about business, and told him about the odd and horrible customers they occasionally got. Usually Harry would join in with his own stories, and they would laugh about it all, but today his heart just wasn't in it.

On the way, they had to walk past Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry stopped walking just before they reached it, and, sensing that he was no longer following them, the twins stopped a few moments later. Neither of them knew what to say. Any subject involving Draco seemed like a Bad Idea. Normally, Fred and George were known for ignoring the Bad Idea warning, generally opting to go ahead with an idea just to see what happened. However, when their friend's emotional health was in question, they drew the line.

The door of the shop opened, and Ginny stepped out.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Harry, or are you going to come help us?" she asked.

Harry ignored her question. "Is Draco there?"

"He lost his temper and stormed out a while ago," Ginny replied.

Harry nodded, but didn't move.

"Oi, Gin, let him be!" Fred said to his sister. "He just lost his boyfriend, he doesn't need to be working."

"What he needs is firewhiskey," George chimed in.

Harry found the idea of getting drunk to be quite appealing, and he shrugged at Ginny.

"Don't get him drunk! He can't just avoid his problems," Ginny said.

"You're not his keeper," Fred replied.

"He can get drunk if he wants," George said.

"He didn't even say he wanted to get drunk!" Ginny said.

"I think the situation calls for it," George replied.

"Why doesn't he just- wait, why am I even talking to you?" Ginny said. She turned to Harry. "Why don't you just _talk_ to Draco?"

Harry had been silent for the past few minutes, but he had felt anger building. He didn't want to talk about this, and he certainly didn't want his friends talking for him. It was part of the reason he had left Hermione and Ron in the first place.

"We've been avoiding talking about it for months now!" he said. He knew his anger was probably misdirected, but Ginny, Fred, and George were there, and Harry suddenly felt like ranting. "We've been having problems for a long time. If we weren't, do you actually think I would do what I did? We buried our problems beneath sex, and tried so hard to keep up the facade that we were fine and happy. But our relationship was slowly deteriorating, and neither of us did anything about it, so I guess it just wasn't worth saving. He was making me miserable. Just because it wasn't public until yesterday, doesn't mean it wasn't there before."

People were staring, but Harry just didn't care anymore. Fred, George, and Ginny watched him vent his anger, not sure what to do to help him.

"The point is, we've been avoiding it all this time, there's no reason to stop now!" Harry yelled.

Ginny kicked at a non-existent rock on the street, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"So, you'd rather lose him all together than try to fix this?" Fred asked.

Harry didn't have an answer for him.

---

_Flashback_

Harry hated the way Draco was watching him. The blonde sat irritably on the edge of the bed, watching Harry pack. His expression was quite unfavorable, and Harry could tell his boyfriend was in a volatile mood.

Harry shoved a pile of robes into the suitcase.

"Aren't you going to fold those?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged and picked up his elbow and knee pads. Draco rolled his eyes, and took the robes out of the suitcase. He began folding them.

"You don't have to do that," Harry said.

"Yes I do. They're expensive robes, don't get them wrinkled," Draco said, keeping his voice as even as he could considering how his irritation was mounting.

Harry dropped the Quidditch gear and folded one of the robes. "See? I'll do it."

Draco got a self-satisfied look, and Harry put the now-folded robes into the suitcase.

"I know you don't want me to go, but I have to," Harry said. "I want to," he amended.

"I know," Draco said quietly.

"The team is counting on me, and this is a good opportunity. A lot of people never get to travel like this, let alone play their favorite sport in front of thousands of people," Harry said. He was excited about traveling with Puddlemere United, and he wanted Draco to be happy for him too.

"I know," Draco said again.

Harry kissed his boyfriend, slowly and sweetly. When he tried to pull away Draco grabbed onto his hips, and kissed him again. Harry linked his hands behind Draco's neck and deepened the kiss, glad that Draco wasn't being too bitter. He felt Draco's tongue press past his lips, and he began sucking on it.

After a few moments, Harry pulled away. "I have to finish packing. I'm going to be late as it is. I'm sorry, Angel."

He kissed Draco lightly, then pulled away from his embrace.

Harry finished packing and latched the suitcase.

"When will you be back?" Draco asked.

"My last match is the first weekend of August," Harry said. "I'll be back that Monday."

"I'll miss you," Draco said.

"I'll miss you too," Harry said. "I'll owl you, at least once a week. Probably more."

"I will too," Draco said.

"I left the season tickets in the fruit-bowl on the kitchen counter," Harry said. "You'll come to at least one of the games, right?"

"Why is it that we never actually have fruit in that fruit-bowl?" Draco asked.

Harry smiled. "I don't know. But you'll come, right?"

"Yeah, at least one game," Draco promised. "More if I can. It depends on how busy we get at the shop. You know business always picks up during the Quidditch season."

"I know," Harry said. He kissed Draco one last time before stepping into the floo.

"I love you," he said, and then he was gone.

"I love you too," Draco said to the empty space.

---

The Puddlemere team arrived in Irkley late. They all crowded into the small lobby of the inn they would be staying at for a few days. It looked old and unkempt on the outside, but clean and bright inside. A group of house-elves immediately appeared to take their bags.

A door opened on Harry's left, and a tall, business-like woman stepped out, followed by a plump middle-aged man with graying hair. The woman was Marie Perkins, Puddlemere's publicist.

"There you are!" Marie said. She always talked too fast, as if she constantly had too many things to do. "You all have an interview with a local magazine, _The Irkley Wizard's Sporting Guide,_ in half an hour. They'll ask you standard questions, nothing new to you guys. Though they want to spend some extra time with the new seeker- Harry? Where's Harry?" She turned to find him standing behind her. "Oh. They say they want to interview you separately, and I told them not to ask you about the war. This is strictly Quidditch."

The plump man cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh, right. This is Mr. Thomas, the owner of this inn. He'll get your room keys. Two to a room. If you have any problems relating to your rooms or your stay here, go to him. That's his office." She pointed at the door behind her.

"After the interview we're going to meet in that room-" she pointed to a door leading to a meeting lounge on the other side of the office "-to go over the schedule for this week. Go up to your rooms, get settled in, and be back down here in-" she checked her watch "-twenty minutes."

Oliver approached Harry then. "Want to room with me?" he asked.

"Sure," Harry replied.

Oliver smiled, and Harry felt like he could melt. While Oliver got the keys, Deverill approached him. "What's with the goofy grin, Potter?"

"What?" Harry said obliviously. He hadn't realized he was grinning. Oliver motioned for Harry to follow him, and they went up to the room.

---

The team interview went well. The interviewer was a young guy named Nathan, and he was really excited about Quidditch. He asked about strategies, and how confident the team was that they could win the match that weekend. They talked at length about which teams Puddlemere thought were challenging, which teams played the best games, and which teams they thought would make it to the World Cup at the end of the season. Nathan pointed out that Puddlemere had a pretty good chance of taking in the cup.

Harry's personal interview, however, didn't go so well. It quickly became apparent that Nathan wanted to talk to him about more than Quidditch.

"So, you're the new seeker," he began. "The famous Harry Potter."

It wasn't a question, so Harry just nodded.

"How did you get into professional Quidditch, exactly?"

"When I played for Hogwarts, Oliver Wood was my team captain. He owled me a few months ago, asking if I would want to try out," Harry answered.

"What is your favorite part of the game?" Nathan asked.

"Flying, and the thrill of the chase, I guess. When both seekers are going for the snitch it's like…" Harry paused, unsure of exactly where he was going with this. He wished he'd had time to prepare. "Like nothing else matters. It's a very tense moment, but it feels amazing."

"Do you work well with the team?" was the next question.

"Yes, they're all great players," Harry replied.

"What does your boyfriend think of you being on the team?" Nathan asked.

"Draco?" Harry paused. This was not where he was expecting the interview to go. "I would like to keep my relationship with Draco private," he said.

"But does he support you?" Nathan pushed.

"Of course he does," Harry lied.

Nathan backed off the subject then, and moved on to another question that Harry didn't want to answer. "Do you think what happened in your past affects how you play?"

"I, umm… I need you to clarify that question," Harry said. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Nathan was asking, but he wanted to play stupid for the moment to buy time to think.

"The war must have been a traumatic experience. Do you find that the memory of those events ever get in the way of your concentration, for example?" Nathan clarified.

"You're not supposed to ask me about the war," Harry said coldly.

"But this is in regards to how well you play," Nathan argued.

"My whole life has been affected by the war. Quidditch is actually an escape from all of that," Harry responded. "To answer your question, when I am on the pitch, I am thinking only about the game."

It became obvious that Harry wouldn't cooperate with this line of questioning any longer, and Nathan opted to end the interview. He thanked Harry, and left.

---

The article appeared the day of the match. It told more about Harry than he had given at the interview. It looked as if Nathan had gone digging to find dirt on Harry. The only negative information he could get was that his boyfriend had been a Death Eater, but the couple had made a public statement on the issue years ago. It wasn't any sort of new scandal, and Harry hoped that the over-zealous interviewer had given up so he wouldn't have to hear from him again.

As for the game, Puddlemere won, 390 to 140.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

18

Fred and George's apartment was a mess, as usual. Among the items you'd expect to see in the average apartment, including small appliances, dirty laundry, and left-over food, were much odder things related to the experiments the twins did to create their merchandise for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Harry had to step over a pile of something blue and gooey, carefully step around a cauldron that was spewing something bright orange, and push aside a stack of small boxes that kept changing color in order to sit on the couch.

"What do these do?" Harry asked, picking up one of the boxes.

"Oh, we haven't got the charms on those quite right yet," George said.

"They're diaries, but they work like little pensieves," Fred explained.

"But unlike the pensieve, this doesn't take the memory out of your head completely, just lets you look at it and add your comments," George chimed in.

"So the box stores about a year's worth of little memories. The problem is that the comments are changing the memories, and we haven't been able to fix it," Fred finished before disappearing into the kitchen.

It seemed the longer Fred and George were in business, the more useful their products became. They started with pranks and ways to get out of class, but now many of their products had some sort of protective or helpful purpose, whether the twins meant them to or not. Those little boxes would give people an insight into a situation that they wouldn't be able to achieve without being able to look at the situation in such an objective way.

Harry thought that if the little boxes actually worked, he could use one to help him with Draco and Oliver. Since they didn't, however, he was stuck trying to figure out this situation on his own.

Fred returned with bottles of firewhiskey for the three of them. They drank in silence for a while. Harry seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and the twins were afraid to interrupt.

Harry was busy wondering what Draco was doing. He wasn't at the Quidditch shop. He was probably at home. Maybe with Blaise. Damn it, Blaise would probably be hitting on him. He never really liked Harry, and it was always obvious that he wanted Draco.

Harry finished his firewhiskey and helped himself to another bottle. He was aware of the twins watching him, but decided to ignore it.

"Harry?" George interrupted his thoughts.

"What?" Harry responded.

George couldn't hold his curiosity in any longer. "Why did you do it?"

"What? Kiss Oliver? Cheat on that arse?" Harry replied. The alcohol was loosening him up, and he was beginning to find the whole situation funny, though he didn't know why exactly.

"Even though Malfoy can be an arse-" George started;

"And even though he's a snobby effeminate little git-" Fred continued;

"And his family has a reputation in the dark arts-" George said;

"You loved him," Fred finished. "And we, and all your friends for that matter, put up with him, and even tried to get along with him, for your sake."

"So why did you do it?" George asked again.

Harry didn't want to answer this question, but figured he couldn't avoid it forever.

"I wasn't happy anymore. Ollie was giving me everything Draco wasn't. I know Draco loves- loved- me, but something was missing from our relationship, and Ollie filled that gap," Harry tried to explain.

---

_Flashback_

Puddlemere United won their next two games easily. The Chudley Cannons proved to be little competition, and the Tutshill Tornados just couldn't quite keep up with them. The Falmouth Falcons, however, had given Puddlemere their first loss of the season.

It was a long, tough game played in less-than-favorable weather conditions. It had been raining lightly all day, and because of this, the crowd was a bit thinner than usual.

The Falcons were known to be rough players, often to the point of violence. They played harder than any of the teams Harry had faced so far, and bitterness quickly grew between the two teams. The Falcons seemed to go out of their way to cause fouls. At the end of the game, as both seekers had their hands outstretched for the snitch, one of the Falcons' chasers intentionally collided with Harry, but made it look like an accident. It allowed the other seeker a moment's advantage to catch the snitch.

"That's blatching!" Morgan cried when Harry told her later. "It's a foul. They should've let the snitch go, and the game should've continued!"

"I know, but no one saw it. It happened so fast, and the chaser made it look like an accident. The referee didn't catch it," Harry said.

"Don't worry, Morgan, we only lost by twenty points," Ford reassured her. "We got enough points that we're still in the running for the cup."

"Barely," she replied.

---

Harry was sharing a hotel room with Oliver again. This inn was nicer than the one at Irkley, with a good bar right next door. The team went there for drinks the night after the game, but Harry left early. He wrote a letter to Draco, then stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the disappointment of the loss.

He knew that losing one game wasn't that big of a deal, but it still irked Harry, especially the way in which they had lost. He felt like it was his fault. It was essentially cheating, but there was nothing he could do about it.

When Harry stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only his boxers, Oliver was sitting on his bed, reading a magazine.

"Oi, Harry," Oliver said in greeting.

"Hi, Ollie, I wasn't expecting you back so soon," Harry said. He felt very awkward standing in front of Oliver nearly naked. It didn't help that the keeper's eyes seemed to be traveling slowly down Harry's body.

"It wasn't any fun after you left," Oliver replied with a shrug.

Oliver pushed himself off the bed and approached Harry. Harry took a nervous step back, but didn't stop him. He looked at the floor, not wanting to meet the other man's eyes.

Oliver placed a hand beneath Harry's chin and lifted his head. They stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes for what felt to Harry like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds. He wanted to say, "No, I'm in love with Draco," but the words wouldn't come, so he did nothing.

Oliver leaned in and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. When Harry didn't immediately respond, Oliver pulled back, disappointed.

Harry had developed feelings for Oliver before they even started traveling together. He suppressed them, however. 'I'm in love with Draco,' he would tell himself; and while this was the truth, he knew he wasn't getting what he needed from his relationship with Draco.

Harry pulled Oliver into a hug, and kissed him back, letting the passion that had been so absent from his love life take over any rational thoughts that threatened to surface in his mind.

One of Oliver's hands tangled in Harry's hair, and he deepened the kiss. Oliver pressed his tongue past Harry's lips, and Harry rolled his own tongue against it. His hands lifted the hem of Oliver's shirt, and rested on the muscular stomach. 'Quidditch has been good to him,' Harry mused.

Oliver pulled Harry to the closest bed, and pushed him down slowly. He lay on top of Harry, letting their midsections rub together. Harry became very aware of the effect all of this was having on his groin. He thought about how close he was to having sex with Oliver, and guilt washed over him.

Oliver was kissing his neck now, and Harry needed him to stop.

"Ollie," he said.

"Mmm?" Oliver intoned against Harry's skin.

"I can't do this," Harry said.

Oliver lifted himself up to look into Harry's eyes. "You don't want me?" He let his hand slide along Harry's erection. "You don't want this?"

"I do, but, Draco…" Harry said. He realized he wasn't making much sense, but his mind seemed to be clouded by the man on top of him. Harry closed his eyes and tried again. "I like sex and all, but I can't betray Draco like that."

Harry felt the bed shift as Oliver got up. Harry opened his eyes in time to see him disappear into the bathroom. The door slammed and Harry sighed, though whether in relief or frustration he wasn't sure.

---

"Draco would never touch this stuff," Harry said after his third firewhiskey. "Only drank wine, he did. Thought it was soffi… soffiscit… classier."

Fred and George were not nearly as drunk as Harry, nor did they intend to be. As much as they liked the alcohol and the fun that usually accompanied being drunk, they figured their friend needed them more.

"Harry, you're drunk," George stated, amused. He was sitting next to Harry on the couch, and Fred was leaning against the wall nearby.

"Yeah… cin I have another one?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Fred said in a very un-Fred like way, but Harry was already helping himself.

"I don't need Draaaaaaco," he said, drawing out the name for no apparent reason.

"Right," Fred replied. "You can do better than the Ferret."

"I cin do better!" Harry repeated with a hiccup.

George took the bottle of firewhiskey from Harry's hand, but the brunette grabbed it back immediately.

"Iwanit," he said incoherently.

"What are you going to do with Quality Quidditch Supplies?" Fred asked conversationally, though he didn't expect an intelligent answer. He just wanted to keep Harry somewhat alert, and distract him if possible.

"Wazzat? Oh, Kiddich shop," Harry said. "I dunno, hes goodit bussniss than me."

While the twins tried to decipher this answer, Harry got up and stumbled toward his suitcase.

"Y'know what Draco did? He wrote me a love-letter! I wazz… I wazz… asseep… an' he wrote me a love-letter!" Harry seemed to find this funny, and started laughing as he pulled a stack of parchment out.

Fred and George had no idea what he was talking about. Harry shoved the letter into Fred's hands, then sat back down on the couch. The page he had been reading last was on the top of the pile, and Fred glanced over it. He wasn't sure if he should be reading it, however. It seemed very personal.

Harry downed the rest of his firewhiskey, and leaned against George.

"You're sexy," he said.

This made George quite a bit uncomfortable, but he figured he could handle it. This was Harry, after all. Harry knew that not only were both he and Fred straight, they were both engaged (George to Katie Bell, and Fred to Angelina Johnson). However, when Harry placed a hand on George's thigh, then proceeded to move the offending hand _up, _the situation grew much more awkward.

George pushed Harry away, and Harry flopped backwards to lie on the couch. George pulled him so he was laying on his side, and got up to stand next to Fred. Well, to be honest, the reason he got up was to get away from Harry.

"Look at this," Fred said, and handed George the letter. He began reading where Fred pointed.

"_If we loved each other so much, why couldn't you just tell your friends, like normal people?" She sounded hurt, and this surprised me._

"_We're not normal," I answered. She nodded, but I could tell she wouldn't accept this as an answer, so I went on. _

"_To protect each other. We were afraid of that information falling into the wrong hands."_

"_This was about the war, then," Hermione said._

"_Of course. Anything the Dark Lord could use against Harry, he would," I confirmed._

"What is this?" George asked.

"From what I can tell, Malfoy wrote it when Harry was in St. Mungo's," Fred replied.

"He shouldn't be reading this now. No wonder he's so stressed out," George observed.

He skimmed down the page.

_She cares about you though. I can't deny that._

_You have- it pains me to admit this, but you have good friends. They love you._

_I love you._

_We want you back, Harry._

_Please, wake up._

So, Malfoy actually cared. Fred and George had never been sure if he would ever accept Harry's friends. The letter made it seem like he was making an effort. They both wondered why that didn't continue in recent years.

They heard soft snores coming from the direction of the couch, and realized Harry had passed out.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

19

Draco didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to stay in the crowded street either. He could go to Blaise, or Pansy, or… actually, that was it. Blaise and Pansy were his only two real friends. It somehow didn't seem fair. Harry-Bloody-Potter had more people to support him than he could count; all of the Weasley's, Lupin and Tonks, old friends from Hogwarts, new friends from Puddlemere. Any of them would gladly take him in, comfort him, help him through all of this. Draco wondered why he didn't have people to go to like that.

_Because you wouldn't let any of them get close enough to you. _The little Hermione-like voice was back.

It was true. No matter how hard Harry tried, Draco had always refused to get along with those people.

Except for Hermione. Despite their rocky start, she was, and always would be, the exception. When they were in Hogwarts together, Draco never would have believed that he would become friends with her, or any muggle-born for that matter. But as much as he hated to admit it, she had helped him get through the hard times with Harry more than anyone, even Blaise. In fact, when Harry had been in St. Mungo's, Blaise and Pansy had both all but abandoned him. They had said that filthy half-bloods weren't worth their pity, and that Draco was a fool to fall so hard for him.

He had to go talk to her.

But Harry was probably with her. Damn it! He didn't want to see Harry! At least, he thought he didn't. Actually, the more he dwelled on it, the more he did want to see his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

_Damn it._

But what would he do? What could he say to Harry? The arse had cheated on him, and Draco had run away. It couldn't be undone now. They were through, and it wasn't worth trying to change that.

Well, he could go to Hermione, and if his _ex-_boyfriend got in the way, at least it would give him the chance to hex Harry. Get some frustration out.

Draco tried to apparate directly into the Weasley's house, but of course the wards were up. He landed in their front lawn instead, and stepped onto the porch, already irritated. The house was small, poor, and just what he would expect from muggle-lovers. They didn't even have a password system set up, or a portrait to announce visitors. They had this thing called a door-bell instead, which Draco understood was supposed to make a ringing-noise when he pressed it. Since he didn't hear anything, however, he pressed it repeatedly.

Hermione answered the door with an annoyed expression. "Stop that! I just put Penelope down for a nap."

"Stop what?" Draco asked innocently.

"You do realize that just because you can't hear the bell outside doesn't mean it hasn't rung inside?" Hermione asked.

"Er…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped back to allow Draco into the house. She was smiling, though, and Draco knew she wasn't upset.

"I'm glad you're here, actually," Hermione said. "You haven't seen Harry, have you?"

"No. Isn't he here?"

She shook her head. "He ran off a few hours ago…. I hope he's alright."

Draco chose not to answer, and more importantly, not to express any concern for Harry.

"Did you want to talk to him?" she asked hopefully.

"No," Draco replied coldly. "If anything, I want to hex him until he hurts as much as I do."

"Then why are you here?" she demanded.

"Because of you!" Draco said more angrily than he intended. "I mean… er… you're always so good at, you know, figuring stuff out."

Hermione supposed that this was intended as a complement, and smiled in what she hoped was a comforting manner. It wasn't often that Draco stumbled over his words like that.

Draco followed Hermione to the couch, and slumped down with his head in his hands. He mumbled something incoherent, and waited for a reply.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I didn't catch that," Hermione said.

Draco lifted his head and repeated, "I don't know if I did the right thing anymore."

Draco _never_ had moral hang-ups. He always did what he wanted, and rarely felt bad about it later. He was quick with decisions, and stuck adamantly to his opinions. The only person he ever said things like "I'm sorry," and "maybe I was wrong," to was Harry; and then only on rare occasions. He talked to Hermione, but never admitted anything important.

So Hermione was quite surprised, and didn't immediately respond. Draco looked at her, amused.

"I do have a heart," he said.

"Forgive me if I forget that sometimes," she replied.

Draco smirked, and looked like himself again. Hermione relaxed and wrapped an arm around him. Draco stiffened at the touch, even though he knew he should be used to such signs of affection by now.

"I'm so worried about you two," Hermione said.

"Don't. We can figure this out," Draco assured her, even though he didn't think that was true.

"Do you love him?" she asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Draco said, frustrated.

"Because it is the one thing that will make all the difference in how this whole situation turns out," Hermione said.

Draco didn't respond, because he didn't like his answer.

---

_Flashback_

Draco woke up and rolled over without opening his eyes, searching for the warm body of his lover. He was met with an empty bed, however, and panicked for a moment before realizing why Harry wasn't there.

Quidditch.

Harry was traveling with Puddlemere United, and hadn't slept with Draco for nearly a month now.

_Merlin, I am never going to get used to this!_

Draco dragged himself out of bed and down to the kitchen, where, he realized, Harry would not be making breakfast for him. He scowled, which was pointless, as there was no one there to scowl at.

Well, he'd just have to wait until the help staff came... except they wouldn't, because today was Saturday, and they only came on Wednesdays. Harry refused to have maids and cooks around all the time, despite what Draco was used to. Bugger it all.

Wait, it was Saturday. That meant Harry probably had a Quidditch match.

Draco fished out the season tickets from the fruit bowl. He hadn't touched them since Harry left, and had gotten buried beneath old bills and notes and shopping lists. Funny how such things could accumulate so quickly.

Draco skimmed through the tickets, looking for the proper date. On that day Puddlemere United would be playing against the Caerphilly Catapults at Bodmin Moor. That wasn't too far away. Well, actually, is was, and most wizards wouldn't be able to apparate that far, but Draco was powerful, even if he didn't use that power very often anymore. The savior of the wizarding world wouldn't choose a weak wizard for a boyfriend, after all, Draco reflected.

The game would begin at six that evening, so in the meantime, Draco still had to worry about food.

Draco didn't cook. He had cooked once, and it had been an inedible disaster. Still, he was older and wiser now, and scrambled eggs sounded easy enough. Harry had done it plenty of times. How hard could it be?

Three burnt eggs and a soggy piece of toast later, Draco gave up. He attempted to scrape the charred mess from the pan, gave up, and angrily tossed the pan into the sink. Maybe cooking hadn't been a good idea. He decided to go out to Harry's favorite Muggle cafe for food.

Draco discarded his wizard robes in favor of Muggle jeans and a sweater, and apparated to the park Harry loved, where the dense wooded areas made it unlikely that people would notice that he just popped out of thin air. Draco walked the two blocks to the cafe, and ordered a bagel and an espresso, wondering why Harry liked them so much, anyway.

---

The Quidditch stadium was crowded that night. Draco found his seat in the stands among the uncultured sports-lovers and tried to enjoy the game.

He had forgotten how exciting the game could be. Even though he ran Quality Quidditch Supplies, and followed the sport, it wasn't the same as actually being there and experiencing a game. Like most spectators, his eyes tracked the Quaffle for a while, but he was soon distracted by his boyfriend.

Draco had forgotten how sexy Harry looked when he played. Harry looked so excited flying around the pitch. He cheered with the crowd when his team scored, and occasionally flew in loops and barrel-rolls for no apparent reason, other than the pure thrill that came with being in the game. All the time, however, his eyes were darting around the pitch, looking for the elusive snitch.

Draco hadn't seen his boyfriend so happy in a long time. Was he really that miserable with Draco? Draco had done everything he thought Harry wanted. He tried to give him the peaceful life he thought he deserved after all the hell he had been through.

Draco supposed that Harry needed some sort of adventure in his life, even if he'd thought he didn't want that anymore at some point in time. After the war, Harry had needed to relax, but now that he was healthy again, he wasn't happy with the nice quiet life they had built together. Some people were just drawn to danger and excitement, and he supposed Harry was one of them. Draco felt horrible. This is what their relationship was missing. He wondered if there was still time to fix it.

Once Harry spotted the snitch, his demeanor changed completely. He became serious, determined. He focused his concentration on the little flash of gold, and dived.

Draco was reminded of their Quidditch matches at Hogwarts. He had always been entranced by the way Harry flew, and had lost the games more than once because of it. That determined look in his normally content green eyes, the way his body pressed against the broom. At first Draco, thought he just had an obsession with seekers, but Harry Potter was by far the sexiest seeker Draco had ever seen. No one could distract him that way, without even trying.

Harry's hand closed around the snitch, and the game ended. Draco headed down to the pitch to congratulate Harry, but stopped half-way. Oliver Wood had an arm draped across Harry's shoulders, and Harry was leaning into him. It was a simple, affectionate gesture, but it spoke volumes to Draco about the relationship that was supposed to be nothing more than friendly.

Draco left before Harry even saw him.

---

Ron came home a few hours later, and Hermione invited Draco to stay for dinner. The thought of eating alone at home was highly unappealing, so he agreed.

It was nothing fancy, and Hermione wasn't a great cook- she had nothing on Harry- but Draco tried to eat it anyway. Despite his efforts, he spent most of the meal pushing the food around his plate. The guilty feelings, combined with the sub-standard meal, made Draco lose his appetite.

"Are you going to eat any of that, Ferret?" Ron asked.

"No, Weasel, I'm not," Draco said spitefully.

"Hermione spent time cooking for you, at least you can-" Ron started.

"It's fine, Ron," Hermione interrupted. "He's stressed. Leave him alone."

"I'm sitting right here, you know. Don't talk about me like I'm not in the room," Draco sneered.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized.

Draco nodded and went back to poking at his food.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

20

Harry woke up with a pounding headache and feeling as if he had been kicked repeatedly in the stomach. He stumbled to the bathroom, where he promptly threw up what little food he had in his stomach from the previous day.

Fred found him slumped over the toilet seat after a few minutes.

"Come on, mate, get up," he demanded.

"No, just leave me here to die in my misery," Harry replied.

Fred shoved a hangover potion into Harry's hand. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

Harry downed the horrible-tasting potion, and groaned when the pain didn't immediately subside.

"Yeah, it takes a few minutes," Fred said knowingly. Harry glared at him in a very Draco-like way.

Once the potion kicked in and Harry felt a bit better, he forced his body off the floor and went in search of his toothbrush, which he was relatively sure he had packed before he stormed out of Hermione and Ron's house.

---

_Flashback_

"Where's my toothbrush, Ollie?" Harry called from the bathroom in their tiny hotel room.

"I don't know, just use mine," Oliver replied.

Harry grabbed Oliver's toothbrush, figuring that the way they had made out the night before, arguing against it was pointless.

When Harry finished and stepped out of the bathroom there was a familiar snowy-white owl sitting on the windowsill.

"Hey Hedwig," Harry said, giving the owl an affectionate pat on the head. "I'm sorry, I don't have any treats for you. I'll tell Draco to give you an extra one when you get back, though."

Harry took the letter Hedwig offered and read it quickly.

_Harry,_

_I promised I'd owl you, so here it is. I hope you're well. I hear Puddlemere United is doing especially well this season, but you are missed here. I'm waiting for you._

_Draco._

Harry wasn't sure what he expected from Draco, but it wasn't this. He supposed that Draco was busy. He did have to run Quality Quidditch Supplies by himself. Still, this didn't quite sound like Draco. Harry supposed he had expected a romantic love letter that would make their time spent apart easier, but this was just a short obligatory note letting him know that Draco still existed.

Harry wrote a response that was a bit longer and a bit more heart-felt, and gave it to Hedwig.

"Bring this home to Draco," he told her.

The owl flew out the window and out of sight.

Harry noticed Oliver looking at him oddly. "What?" Harry demanded.

"You look disappointed about something. Are you having problems with Draco?" Oliver asked.

"No," Harry responded.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Then why are we doing this?" he asked, pointing to himself and Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied to make himself feel better.

Oliver got up and kissed Harry passionately on the lips. "Why are we doing this?" he asked in a low and seductive voice.

Oliver moved to kiss Harry's neck and jaw line, and Harry didn't stop him.

"Why do you let me hold you, kiss you with a passion you admit you haven't felt with Malfoy in months?" Oliver whispered against Harry's ear.

It wasn't until he kissed his scar that Harry pushed Oliver away.

"Don't-" he started.

"Don't what? You want this," Oliver stated.

"No, I can't do this to Draco," Harry said.

"That's not what you said last night," Oliver replied cheekily. "Or the night before that."

"Well, It's ending now," Harry said unconvincingly.

When they moved on to the next hotel, Harry insisted on rooming with Marco in order to "get to know his other teammates better."

---

Fred and George greeted Harry amicably when he finally felt well enough to wander out of the cluttered little apartment. They told him they had to run their joke shop, but he was free to come and go as he pleased, and they gave him the password to get back into their apartment.

Harry wandered aimlessly around Diagon Alley for a while, but avoiding Quality Quidditch Supplies. He clung tightly to Draco's letter, refusing to part with it for even a moment, though he wasn't sure why. He looked at the sky or the ground as he walked, avoiding the gazes of curious passer-bys. The sky was turbulent, threatening to open up at any moment.

As he walked along the narrow street, and was greeted by familiar witches and wizards, he began to wonder what about his and Draco's life had been so bad. They had friends, a nice place to live, and a successful Quidditch shop. The war was over, and though they had to struggle to get the privacy they desired (both of their names were famous among the wizarding world, after all, even if Draco's was famous for the unfavorable things his family did), they had each other. That should have been enough.

It began to rain, and Harry sought shelter in the nearest shop, which happened to be Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. When Florean saw Harry, he smiled brightly and asked, "Harry! I haven't seen you in quite a while. What will you and Draco have today, the usual?"

Harry and Draco had often come to this shop after a long day of work. They always got a large strawberry sundae and sat in the corner booth, finding ways to eat the fruit in a sexual manner. Usually, they would go home afterwards and have passionate sex, and sometimes more strawberries.

Harry began to think that it had been a very bad idea to come here.

"Err, no, Draco's not with me today," Harry replied.

"That's unusual," Florean said.

"Not so much. We broke up," Harry explained.

"Why?" the shop-owner asked, genuinely bewildered. "You two always looked so happy!"

"I… err…" It suddenly occurred to Harry how bad it would sound if he said they had broken up because he had cheated on Draco with a member of his Quidditch team. "We weren't happy anymore," Harry responded after a pause that lasted just a bit too long.

Harry ordered an ice cream cone, and didn't meet Florean's eyes as he received his treat and paid for it. Harry sat in the corner booth alone and began reading Draco's letter again.

_No one should be awake at this god-forsaken hour, but here we are. I can barely function without you. Eating is a chore, sleep is elusive. I'm getting thinner, and Hermione, the only person who will actually talk to me, tells me I look like crap_

_Don't worry, she didn't use those words. They're a bit crude for her, aren't they? What she actually said was that I'm paler than usual, and I look like I haven't slept for a week._

Harry mused that he felt the same way now. The past few days had been hell on his nerves, his appetite, his appearance. He wasn't sure how he managed to get through his days without breaking down. Though, on some level, he guessed that giving up and getting piss-drunk with Fred and George was not a healthy way of dealing with this stress.

"_You always seem to put great care into the way you look, Draco. You've been neglecting that lately," she said._

"_I know," I replied. "I haven't taken the time… It doesn't seem to matter when Harry is… like this."_

_Look how pathetic I am without you, Harry._

_I need you to wake up._

Harry wondered if Draco still needed him like that, if he had thought similar things while Harry was away with the Quidditch team. He wondered just how well Draco had gotten along without him over the past two months. They had never had time to talk about it.

Harry re-read a portion of the letter, and realized that Draco had been close to beaking down so many times. Maybe he did actually break down, and was just too proud to say so in his letter. Harry knew him well enough to believe that. He wondered, if he were in the same situation now, would Draco feel the same things that he expressed in the letter?

Part of him said no, that part of their lives was over. They had hurt each other too much to go back. Yet, another part of him said yes, love like that doesn't just disappear. He felt that deep down, they would always have feelings for each other, even if they couldn't make their relationship work.

And they _wouldn't_ be able to make their relationship work, Harry reminded himself. For a moment he had almost been considering getting back together with the git. For just a moment, it seemed as if they actually did talk about this, they could work it out. Harry was deluding himself if he thought that was true, however, and pushed all thoughts on the subject aside.

No, they wouldn't be getting back together.

Harry flipped the page to another entry of Draco's letter. What was written there nearly changed his mind.

"_Are you defying me?" I've never seen Father so angry._

_I looked up at him. "Yes," I said in barely a whisper. I could tell this was infuriating him, and I pushed it farther. "I love Harry Potter."_

_He kicked me in the stomach, and pain shot through my body._

Harry was reminded of how much pain Draco had to go through when his father and Voldemort found out about their relationship. He had deliberately gone against everything his father had taught him, everything his family was supposed to stand for. Harry felt horrible for ever doubting his love.

"_No more," he said. "Every time I hear that name, I will beat you. Every time you think of boys in that manner, I will make you wish to be dead. Do you understand?"…_

"_Yes!" I said finally._

Of course, Draco was a Malfoy, after all. He was sarcastic and deceptive by nature. He was spoiled and took everything, including Harry, for granted. Harry couldn't deal with that anymore.

He knew he was making the right decision.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

The Harry/Oliver shippers will love me for this, and the Harry/Draco shippers will hate me. Flame away, but it has to be done.

---

21

_Flashback_

_Harry,_

_I'm glad you seem to miss me. I was beginning to get worried. The shop has been very busy, so I'm sorry I haven't had time to come see you. I've been keeping busy, so don't worry about me. Your team seems to need you more. _

_Love,_

_Draco_

Harry was confused. Draco was worried? About what? And what was Harry supposed to be worrying about? He knew Draco was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And that line about his team… he just didn't understand.

When Harry wrote back, he focused on the part of the letter that he _did _understand.

_Draco,_

_I always miss you. Even though I'm on the Quidditch team now, you are still my everything. I wish you would come to one of my games. Just knowing you are watching would lift my spirits. Life just isn't the same without you around. I've become close with my teammates, but that doesn't make up for what I'm missing with you. I can't wait to see you again._

_All my love,_

_Harry_

"You should tell him not to worry, as I will gladly keep you… ah… _satisfied._" Oliver purred against Harry's ear.

Harry tensed. He didn't even notice Oliver enter the room. "What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"You know," Oliver said, and licked at the sensitive skin just below Harry's ear. Harry made a low moaning noise, though in pleasure or irritation, neither of them were sure.

Harry pulled away from the keeper, sealed the letter, and gave it to Hedwig. The owl obediently flew back toward home.

"How long are you going to lie to him, and more importantly, to yourself?" Oliver asked.

"I'm not lying to anyone!" Harry protested; but he knew it wasn't true. He was lying to both himself and Draco, and it wasn't fair to either of them.

Oliver shrugged. "Join us in the lounge downstairs. They're serving some Muggle alcohol, and most of us intend to get pleasantly drunk."

"No thanks," Harry said.

"Fine, but if you change your mind…" Oliver left the sentence hanging.

"Right," Harry said. "But don't count on it."

---

Harry was _bored._

There was nothing to do in the hotel room, and Harry had no reason not to join his teammates for a drink other than not wanting to be with Oliver. It wasn't like he'd be alone with Oliver, however, and the keeper wasn't likely to try anything sexual with the rest of the team around.

So Harry made his way down to the hotel lounge.

He found his friends drinking and talking in the far corner of the room. He could tell that half of them were already drunk. Oliver smiled at Harry and patted the seat next to him, but Harry opted to sit with Morgan and Jennifer instead.

Morgan was pleasantly tipsy, and smiled a lot more than Harry was used to. Jennifer was outright, giggly, clingy, drunk. When Harry sat down next to her, she wrapped both arms around him and said, "yurr sexy!"

"Er… thanks," Harry said. "You're… err… drunk."

"Yeah," Jennifer agreed, and giggled loudly.

Harry wasn't sure what to do about this, and looked around nervously. Jennifer took a long drink of something foul-smelling, and laughed again.

"'Arry's sexy!"she announced. Then she appeared to get an idea. "'Arry's gay!" she said, just as loudly.

"Err…" Harry was turning a bright shade of red.

"Y'know what would be sexy?" Jennifer asked softly.

"What?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer.

"If 'Arry an' Ol'ver had SEX!" She laughed hysterically.

Harry looked pleadingly at his teammates. "I don't think that would be a good idea," Harry told her.

At that point, Morgan took pity on Harry, and cast a silencing charm on Jennifer.

"As drunk as Jennifer is, I rather agree with her," Oliver said cheekily. Harry glared at him.

Jennifer looked offended, and mouthed protests to Morgan, but Morgan refused to lift the silencing charm. After a few more drinks, Jennifer was out cold, anyway.

---

Harry drank more than he had intended to that night, but not enough to lose all inhibitions. Still, Oliver insisted on helping him up to the room he was sharing with Marco.

Harry slumped onto the bed and said good-night, but Oliver didn't leave the room. Instead he sat next to Harry and began to stroke his hair.

This was a soothing gesture that Draco often performed for Harry, and he felt himself drifting off, despite the fact that it wasn't Draco next to him.

"You may not realize it, but you're gorgeous, Harry," Oliver said. His voice was smooth and comforting, like silk. "You deserve so much more than the life you have with Malfoy. You deserve the excitement you crave, the appreciation you need, and the family you never had."

Oliver knew just how to get to him. Harry reached a hand up to touch Oliver's face.

"I want you," Harry said softly.

Oliver lay down beside Harry and kissed him. "Are you sure?"

Harry closed his eyes and hesitated. "Yes."

Harry kissed him. Oliver shifted so that the entire length of his body was pressed against Harry's. The kiss grew more passionate, more needy, and their tongues darted out to meet.

Oliver began undressing Harry, kissing his way along the newly revealed skin. Harry arched into the feather-light touches, whimpering in need. Oliver removed the last of Harry's clothing, then quickly discarded his own. He moved to climb on top of Harry, but the seeker stopped him.

"Wait," Harry said, and sat up.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Oliver asked.

"No," Harry said.

He sat on the edge of the bed with Oliver standing in front of him. He moved his hands along the muscular keeper's body appreciatively. Oliver was tall and lean, but built from playing Quidditch for so many years. His chest and arms were strong, and his body well-formed for the position he played.

Harry moved his hands down to Oliver's erection. He wrapped his hand around it, which earned him a small gasp of pleasure from the keeper. Oliver let Harry finger at his penis and balls for a few minutes, then pushed him back onto the bed. He kissed Harry violently, his teeth crashing against Harry's lips. Harry moaned into his mouth.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Oliver grabbed his wand and muttered a lube spell, spreading wetness on both himself and Harry. He pumped his fingers inside of Harry for a moment, preparing him.

"More," Harry gasped.

Oliver bent Harry's legs back, and pressed himself into the smaller seeker. Harry's breathing grew heavy as Oliver pumped into him repetitively. Oliver was rougher than Draco, and took Harry with a vigor he hadn't had with Draco in a long time. Harry soon felt himself reach climax, and Oliver came inside of him only moments later.

For what felt like a long time, neither of them moved. Slowly, Oliver pulled out of Harry and lay down next to him. He wrapped an arm around the seeker. Harry cuddled into arms that were so much stronger than Draco's, and fell asleep to the sound of Oliver's beating heart.

---

When Harry awoke he was immediately aware that the arms around him were not Draco's. Draco's body didn't feel like this. Something was very, very wrong.

He pushed himself up, waking Oliver.

"Harry?" Oliver muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Oliver… we… oh…" Harry sat heavily back on the bed as the events of the previous night flooded back to him.

"We had wonderful, mind-numbing sex," Oliver said with a smile. He hugged Harry, but Harry pushed him away.

"This is wrong!" he said.

"No, it's not. You wanted it just as much as I did," Oliver said.

"I… I did," Harry admitted.

"So what's the problem?" Oliver asked.

"Draco," Harry replied.

"Break up with him," Oliver said.

"You know I can't do that," Harry replied.

"What's stopping you?" Oliver demanded.

"I love him," Harry said, not meeting Oliver's eyes.

Oliver took Harry's chin in his hand and kissed his lips lightly. "I could easily fall in love with you, Harry Potter."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Oliver gave him a sweet smile that made him melt inside. Harry threw his arms around the keeper and kissed him more passionately than he had kissed Draco in months.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

22

"Dra-co. Draaay-ko," Draco enunciated.

Penelope just laughed.

The blonde pointed to her. "Penny." He pointed to himself. "Draco."

Ron and Hermione stepped into the room to find Draco sitting on the floor next to their daughter. Penelope seemed more interested in her doll, however, and all of Draco's efforts to get her to say his name were completely ignored.

"Stop badgering my daughter," Ron demanded.

Hermione slapped his arm lightly. "What did we talk about?" she whispered to her husband.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Right. Hey, Ferret,"

"Yes, Weasel?" Draco replied nonchalantly.

"You can stay here as long as you want, because Hermione doesn't like the idea of you alone in that house since Harry left you for a better man," Ron said, deliberately finding ways to insult Draco.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

Draco sneered at him. "I can take care of myself."

Hermione squatted down next to Draco. "What he means is, we would be happy if you stayed with us. In times like this, we could all use a little moral support, you know?"

Draco nodded, and Hermione took it to mean he accepted the invitation. He was grateful, but didn't want to show it. Malfoys weren't supposed to need pity from Muggle-lovers.

She hugged him. Ron made an irritated noise and wandered out of the room. Hermione stood up, and Draco went back to teaching Penelope his name. "Dray-ko."

"She really can't pronounce the DR sound," Hermione informed him.

"She could at least try," Draco said, exasperated.

Hermione laughed. "She's only one! She knows your name, she just can't say it yet."

"She can say 'Harry' just fine," Draco pointed out.

"Actually, she calls him 'Hay-ee,'" Hermione corrected. "She has problems with R's. She can't say 'Fred' or 'Charlie' properly either, and she won't even attempt 'George.'"

"I don't understand children," Draco said, scowling at the little girl, who just laughed. "See? What's so funny about me?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Draco's frustration. "She thinks a lot of things are funny, it's not just you."

Penelope stopped laughing, and suddenly looked like she was thinking about something. She screwed up her face, then smiled brightly. "Poo!" she announced.

Draco moved away from her. "Eww! It smells!"

"You are such a child yourself sometimes," Hermione said, picking up her daughter.

He followed her to the baby's room.

"Harry wanted one," Draco said.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"A kid," Draco clarified. He sighed. "He always said one day we would adopt one and give some lucky kid the family he never had."

"I know," Hermione said sadly. "He was disappointed when you said you didn't want that anymore." She put Penelope on the changing table and fished a new diaper from the drawer underneath.

"I just don't see myself with a baby," Draco said.

"I think you've got enough love in your heart to share," Hermione said. "Harry was always convinced you'd make a good father."

Draco looked at the floor, imagining how devastated his boyfriend must have been when Draco shot down the idea. "Can I, um, help you?"

"You want to change her diaper?" Hermione asked in a mild state of shock.

"I just want to see if I can do it," Draco said.

Hermione smiled and handed him the clean diaper, and instructed him on what to do. "Hold her legs like this, she likes to kick. I have baby wipes, but you can use _scourgify _if you'd like. You shouldn't use too much magic on an infant, but a cleaning spell once in a while isn't a problem."

Draco opted to use his wand instead of actually touching the mess, then managed to get a new diaper on her. Hermione congratulated him on changing his first ever dirty diaper.

"That was gross," Draco said.

"Being a dad isn't always a glamorous job, Draco," Hermione said.

"So why does Harry want it so much?" Draco demanded, though he already knew the answer.

"You know family is important to him," Hermione said. "It's a lot of responsibility, but I wouldn't trade parenthood for all the world."

"Do you think I'd make a good father?" Draco asked her. It wasn't often that he asked something that actually showed he valued her opinion, and Hermione was happy every time he opened up to her.

"Despite the fact that you're arrogant and selfish most of the time, Harry thinks so. I trust his opinions of people, so yes, I do," she said, and smiled.

Hermione brought Penelope back downstairs, where Ron was reading the Daily Prophet and trying to ignore Draco's presence.

"Hi Hermione," he said. She sat next to him, and he gave both her and Penelope a peck on the cheek. Draco scowled at the display.

"Don't you think Draco would make a lovely father?" Hermione asked Ron.

Ron looked at the blonde. "Not if he keeps making that face. He'll scare the poor kid."

Draco was going to respond with a sarcastic comment, but Hermione interrupted.

"Please stop insulting each other," she requested, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good. Penelope squirmed out of her lap, and Hermione let her drop to the floor.

"Why is he still hanging around here anyway?" Ron whined.

"He's our friend!" Hermione said.

Penelope half-walked, half-crawled across the room and sat at Draco's feet.

"Harry's our friend!" Ron said. "We put up with him because Harry liked him."

Penelope lifted her arms and looked hopefully up at Draco. He guessed this action was supposed to mean something to him.

"Honestly, Ron, most of us got past that years ago. After all this time, you can't say he hasn't become part of our lives," Hermione argued.

Draco picked up the little girl, resting her weight against his hip. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and snuggled into him contentedly.

Ron didn't have an answer for that, and resorted to, "But he's… uh… the Ferret!"

"Oh, nice comeback, Weasel," Draco interrupted.

"What are you doing with my daughter?" Ron demanded.

"She wanted to be held," Draco replied.

Ron's jaw dropped. "By you?"

"She's grown up with him around, Ron," Hermione said. "She knows nothing about our past, remember. Not Hogwarts, the war, nothing. All she knows is that Uncle Harry and Uncle Draco have been around since she was born. She probably doesn't even understand that they've broken up."

"Uncle Draco?" Draco repeated.

Hermione nodded. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, I don't mind," he said, stroking the little girl's back. She was falling asleep against him, and he was beginning to think that it wouldn't be so bad to have a kid around.

---

_Flashback_

After the Quidditch game Draco had gone to Hermione, who had a lot of intelligent, rational things to say on the subject.

"Harry loves you. He wouldn't cheat on you. You know how close he gets to some people. Look at Ron and me. He hugs us all the time. He loves both of us, but not in the way he loves you. You mean the world to him, Draco. I know it hurts that you have to spend time away from him right now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. It just means he needs a new experience in life. Don't worry, he'll be back soon, and you two will be the happy couple you always have been once more."

Draco thanked Hermione for her comforting words, then went home to his empty house.

---

Hermione's words had made a huge difference for Draco. He decided to trust his boyfriend's judgment. Things weren't always what they appeared to be, after all. Besides, Harry would be home soon.

A week before Harry would be back, Draco set up a romantic dinner for the two of them. He convinced the cook and the maids to come in for the night to act as their wait staff. He chose the menu, and some simple decorations (candles, roses, and such romantic nonsense), and waited for his lover to return.

The day before Harry was to come home, the daily prophet published the final Quidditch scores for the season. Puddlemere United was in the lead. They would be in the Quidditch World Cup.

Draco looked at the paper in disbelief. Surely, that was wrong.

The World Cup would be held in Ireland in two weeks, which meant two more weeks without Harry.

---

The owl arrived that night with Harry's excited letter, telling Draco about the Cup. The team would be going to Ireland next week. They would have practice every day, so he wouldn't be able to come home. He apologized, but Draco could tell that this is what Harry wanted.

Harry sent a ticket for the match, and instructions to the portkey that would take Draco and the Weasleys to Ireland.

His letter ended with an enthusiastic, _Hope to see you there!_

---

"Something's been bothering me for a while," Hermione said, breaking Draco out of his thoughts.

"What?" He asked.

"Why didn't you ever propose to Harry?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said.

"Don't you think it would have made a difference?" she pushed.

"It just would've made everything more complicated," Draco said. He was getting irritated.

"Well, one of the reasons Harry was unhappy was because your relationship had grown stagnant. It would have helped if he had known this was actually going somewhere," she replied.

Draco looked at the floor. He hated the way she was always right. "I never thought about that."

"Obviously." She was becoming as frustrated with the whole situation as Draco was. "So, why didn't you ever propose?"

"We had a good life, there was no reason to change anything!" Draco exclaimed.

"Couldn't you tell he wanted more?" Hermione demanded.

"No… Yes… It doesn't matter anymore!" Draco yelled at her. He handed Penelope to her mother and stormed out of the room, then realized he had nowhere to go. He heard Penelope's cries from inside the room. "And I'd make a lousy father!" he called for good measure.

Draco slumped down against the wall and put his head in his hands. After a few minutes, Ron sat next to him.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, you and Harry still care about each other," Ron said.

"You don't need to pretend you care, Weasel," Draco said spitefully.

"Ron," the red-head corrected. He sighed. "Hermione's right. You've become part of the family. Mum talks about you like you're one of her kids, just like she does with Harry, and Hermione, and all the people me, my brothers and Ginny love."

"Why are you telling me this?" Draco demanded.

"Because I think you and Harry need each other, despite what's happened," he said. "You're both emotional wrecks when you're apart, and it's become obvious recently that you give Harry something that Hermione and I can't; though, I'm not sure what it is."

Draco lifted his head. There were tears in his gray eyes, and Ron wasn't sure what to do. Draco hated to appear so vulnerable, but there was something he had to get off his chest.

"I never proposed to Harry because I was afraid I would never be able to give him everything he wanted, and more importantly, deserved. I was afraid that if our lives changed in any drastic way, I would lose him," he admitted. He wiped a hand across his eyes. "That's why I lost him."

Ron placed a hand on Draco's shoulder in a gesture of support. It wasn't much, but it was a comfort to Draco. If Harry ever found out about this, he would be proud of them.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

23

The ice cream shop closed, and it had stopped raining, so Harry went to the park near his and Draco's home. It was his favorite place to go to think. He loved the quiet trails with the sounds of nature around him. He knew Draco didn't appreciate this sort of thing, so Harry had spent a lot of time there alone. He breathed in the rich aroma of the trees, and let his eyes flutter shut. He would find a new boyfriend, one who appreciated simple things like this. Draco was vain and materialistic. Harry would find a guy who wasn't.

Except, he didn't want another guy, not even Oliver. Despite everything, he still wanted Draco.

Night was falling, and Harry was thinking he should go back to Fred and George. For some reason, however, he just really wanted to be alone. He had done the whole self-pity thing with Hermione and Ron, and he had tried to get drunk in order to forget with the twins, and none of it was helping.

He had to admit to himself that no matter how hard he tried to forget about it all, he still loved Draco.

It was a horrible realization, and it hurt to know that the two of them would never be able to make this work. All the love and hot strawberry-sex in the world couldn't make up for what they had done to each other.

Harry sat down on a bench. It was a simple wooden bench, painted green, and had things like "Dave wuz here" and "CF heart JC" carved into it. Harry traced the heart with his finger. He and Draco had never had to announce their love in such juvenile ways, of course. The entire wizarding world knew about them. They had to make a public statement in the daily Prophet in order to get everyone to leave them alone.

Harry still had Draco's letter with him, but it was quickly becoming too dark to read. Good. Reading it only made him feel worse.

Yet, he was drawn to the letter. He felt there was something he was missing, something in Draco's words that would help, even if they were written five years ago. He took out his wand and said, "Lumos." The tip lit up, and he held it close to the parchment.

_I think writing this is the only thing that keeps me sane. I watch the Medi-Wizards coming and going from the general direction of your room all day, waiting, hoping one of them will take pity and tell me something._

_Hah, that's funny right? Malfoys don't accept pity. But you are worth it. For you, I can change. For you and you alone, I can leave my past, forget the twisted ideas that have been drilled into me since childhood. For you, I can stop being a Malfoy, and just be Draco._

But he hadn't. He was still the same selfish git.

No, that's not quite true. Draco _had_ changed, had made sacrifices. It wasn't easy for him, but he was slowly breaking away from the cold, arrogant boy Harry had met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. It was a bit too slow for Harry's liking, but still, it was there.

_The Medi-Wizards all know who I am and why I'm here. I made sure of that. I told them you're my boyfriend, and they looked at me like I was insane, or at the very least, delusional. But we know it's true. You and me love, that's what matters._

That was what mattered. Harry's stomach turned at the thought. They had always said that as long as they had each other they could get through anything, including public ridicule, Death Eater trials, and the acceptance or non-acceptance of their friends. No matter what, they would stick together.

How things change.

Draco had taken Harry for granted, like he took so many things for granted, and Harry had run off with another guy. No, not run off. Harry had allowed himself to be _seduced_ by another guy. There was a difference.

It all amounted to the same thing, however. Harry had cheated on Draco.

He felt horrible. More than anything, he wanted Draco's forgiveness. He wanted to go home and apologize, and demand that they start over. He knew that Draco wouldn't take him back, though, and he didn't blame him.

---

_Flashback_

Harry was ready for the Quidditch World Cup. Puddlemere had practiced and played hard all season, and they all felt they deserved it. What made Harry even more excited was knowing that his friends were watching, and they were just as excited as he was. He had gotten owls from all of the Weasleys, Seamus, Zach, and a number of old friends from Hogwarts congratulating him.

The only person he hadn't gotten an owl from was Draco. Still, Hermione had said he was coming, and Harry knew she would make sure he did. Besides, Draco loved him. He wouldn't miss one of the most important events of Harry's life.

Puddlemere United flew out of the locker rooms to the wild cheering of the crowds. The first thing Harry noticed was how huge the stadium it was, and how full it was. The stands rose higher than those around any pitch he had played in before, and they were lined with more wizards than Harry had seen in his life.

He loved it all, and let the cheering crowds fuel his excitement.

The rival team emerged from the other locker room and took a lap around the pitch. Puddlemere would be playing the German team, the Heidelberg Harriers. Both teams gathered in the middle around the referee.

'Okay, here we go.'

The snitch was let go. Harry watched as it flew around his head, then disappeared into the distance.

'Focus.'

He gripped his broom tightly. Morgan shook hands with the Harriers' captain.

'Speed.'

The referee blew the whistle and let the quaffle go. Morgan caught it and flew over the rest of the players. The Harriers were right behind her, however, and she passed the ball to Marco. Marco layed flat against his broom, hugging the quaffle to his chest, and raced down the field. He threw the ball toward the right hoop, but the keeper caught it. The keeper tossed the quaffle to his own teammates, but Jennifer swooped in and intercepted it, then scored so fast the other team didn't even have time to react.

In the meantime, Harry sped in the direction the snitch had taken, searching for the flash of gold. This was the one game that would be good to end quickly. During the others, Puddlemere had been trying to rack up the points to get to the Cup, but this one was more about winning than points.

The Harriers had the quaffle now, and the three chasers were passing it among each other, continually swinging in circles to avoid the Puddlemere chasers. Ford and Arthur hit the bludgers toward them, scattering them, and making them lose the quaffle. Jennifer caught it and back-flipped so she was going in the opposite direction. The Harriers' chasers quickly caught up, and she passed to Marco, who scored another goal for Puddlemere.

The Harriers' seeker, Zusak, pulled up so he was flying nest to Harry. He was a thin, bird-like man with sharp features and intense eyes.

"They say you're good, Potter, but I don't believe it," he said with a strong accent. "The fact that your name is famous doesn't mean you can play for shit."

"Do you think we'd be here if I couldn't play for shit?" Harry shot back.

"Just because you can buy your way to the top in the UK doesn't mean you actually stand a chance in the big leagues," he said.

Harry flipped around him and dived strait for the ground, pulling back up at the last moment, in an imitation of the Wronski Defensive Feint. It was a move only the best seekers could pull off.

"I didn't buy my team's way into the Cup, if that's what you're thinking," he called.

"Show off!" the other seeker called back.

Harry was reminded of his matches against Draco in Hogwarts, and smirked. Then he sped off, still searching for the snitch.

Morgan had the quaffle again, and just before she threw to score, a Harrier chaser lurched forward and grabbed the end of her broomstick. She was awarded a foul, and scored without a problem.

The game resumed. It was fast-paced and highly competitive, with the scores remaining very close the whole time.

Finally, Harry caught sight of the snitch. The other seeker hadn't, however, and Harry dived strait down, even though the snitch was off to the right. When Zusak fell into a similar dive, Harry pulled up and swerved toward the golden ball, leaving him behind. Zusak quickly caught up, however, and both reached for the snitch at the same time. Harry touched it, but Zusak grabbed his arm. Harry wrenched his arm out of Zusak's grasp, pulling him off balance just before he grabbed the snitch. Before the other seeker could right himself, Harry grabbed it and won the game.

Puddlemere United gathered in the center of the pitch while the Harriers slumped off to the locker rooms. Harry found himself completely caught up in the moment. His teammates congratulated each other while the wizarding press gathered around to take photos of them. They were handed the Cup, and hugged each other excitedly.

Harry let Jennifer go, and was pulled into the strong, familiar arms of Oliver.

"You're amazing, Harry!" Oliver said eagerly; and in the next moment Harry had his arms around Oliver's neck and they were kissing in front of half the wizarding world.

They pulled away when a bright flash went off in their faces. The camera was lowered to reveal that irritating interviewer from Irkely.

"Hey!" Harry called, but the reporter slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

"_Impedimenta!_"

Suddenly Harry couldn't move. He tried to look in the direction of the voice, but he couldn't make his muscles cooperate. Instead he looked helplessly up at Oliver.

"_Diffindo!_" The voice, which was sounding increasingly familiar to Harry, cast another spell at the same time as Oliver whipped out his wand and called, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Oliver then cast a counter-spell to free Harry. He turned toward the voice.

Draco was standing on the edge of the field, looking around angrily for his wand.

"Shit," Harry said out loud.

Draco appeared to give up on the wand and opted for just staring at Harry.

Harry walked slowly to his boyfriend. "Draco, I…" but he didn't know what to say.

Draco wore the arrogant scowl Harry was used to seeing, but his eyes showed how much he was hurt. Harry looked away, afraid of what he would do if he kept looking into those gray eyes. He realized that they were being stared at.

"You what? How could you do that to me?" Draco demanded, pointing at Oliver over Harry's shoulder.

"I don't… you know what? I do know. Do you realize how unhappy I've been the past few months, and how little support you've given me when I finally did find something that does make me happy? I was always convinced that you had changed, Malfoy, but you're just as selfish as you always were," Harry said.

He sounded just as hurt as Draco did. They stood in silence for a moment, avoiding each other's eyes.

"It's over," Draco said softly, and apparated away.

---

A/N: Odd References:

Markus Zusak wrote a powerful book called _The Book Thief_, which is about a German girl during WWII.

Ford and Arthur are the main characters of Douglas Adams' _Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_, which is witty and fun, and also comes highly recommended.

The lines "Okay, here we go," "focus," and "speed," and the way they're laid out, are a reference to Pixar's _Cars_, which is a lovely movie about nostalgia and appreciating what you have. It's also funny in a cute way.

I think that's all of them in this fic. Sometimes my odd references are blatant, like in _The Golden Apple_, and sometimes they're not.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

---

24

_We spent all that time and effort making people believe we hated each other. We did a pretty damn good job, didn't we?_

_So, now we need to convince them that it was all a ruse. We need to prove to them all that we never actually stopped loving each other._

_You need to wake up, Harry, so we can._

It wasn't a trick this time, not like that day in Hogsmeade. As much as Harry was beginning to wish this had all been a horrible nightmare, it was real. This time, there was nothing to prove, and no hope.

Harry put his head in his hands. Draco could be an arse, but he had loved him and stood by him when Harry needed him the most. He didn't think he would have been able to heal the way he did after the war if Draco hadn't been there to support him. As much as he loved Ron and Hermione, and as much as he appreciated all of the Weasleys and his friends, his relationship with Draco ran so much deeper.

Harry began to realize that his thoughts kept contradicting themselves, and this only made him more frustrated. One moment he was trying to come up with ways to move on, the next he was trying to find ways to forgive, or beg forgiveness. At least when he was in St. Mungo's, there had been no question about how much he and Draco loved each other. At least, not in their minds. It had taken some convincing to get their friends to believe it.

What was he looking for in this letter, anyway?

_Wake up, Harry, please wake up._

_I can't go on without you._

_I… I bought a draught of Eternal Sleep a few days ago. I wasn't going to tell you, but there it is. I won't have to live without you. We'll be together, whether in life or death._

The little vial… Harry opened the box and took out the black, swirling potion. Draught of Eternal Sleep. Draco was willing to die for Harry…

Harry had to choke back tears. The full weight of what must have been happening while he was unconscious at St. Mungo's finally hit him. Draco had been a wreck. He must have felt so helpless, to do this.

Harry hated the idea of the guy he loved dying for him, especially since that guy was the proud, selfish Draco Malfoy. No, he wasn't selfish if he would do this. But wasn't it a bit cowardly? Wasn't it giving up? Harry was torn. Dying for love was such a noble, Gryffindor thing to do, though. He supposed he had gotten through to Draco on some level, even if it wasn't immediately obvious on the surface.

Harry put the potion back into the box, and went back to Draco's words.

_I want to do silly romantic things with you. Watch the sun rise; eat dinner by candlelight; wine and roses. I want you to know how much you are loved. I want everyone else to know, too._

The last time they had done something romantic was the night they had slept under the stars. It felt so long ago.

_We can get married, adopt a kid or two, have a real family. I know you never had one growing up, so I want to give that to you. I want to give you everything you could ever want._

But he hadn't. Harry wanted to get angry again. They hadn't gotten married, and any mention of adopting had been quickly shot down by Draco. Harry had never gotten the family he wanted. Granted, his life with Draco wasn't bad, it just wasn't what he expected.

Harry tried to get angry, but he was tired. His emotions were over-worked, and all he felt now was numb. All he wanted to do was curl up beside Draco, apologize, and have hot make-up sex.

_I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I couldn't imagine losing you again._

_I love you, Harry._

_Marry Me._

It was so heartfelt. Harry stared at the parchment in disbelief. Why hadn't Draco ever actually proposed to him? He would have said yes. It would have made a difference if their relationship was actually going somewhere. It had just grown so stagnant. The passion that such a young couple should have was gone. Well, except when it came to sex.

Yet, Harry knew he had hurt Draco. He reflected that it hadn't been such a good idea to give in to Oliver's advances. Harry had let the little things get in the way of his relationship with Draco instead of trying to work it out. Any attempts to resurrect things were quickly pushed aside in order to satisfy physical desires, first with Draco, and later with Oliver when his boyfriend wasn't around. Apparently, sex was more important to him than the solidity of a loving relationship.

'I've been horrible,' Harry thought as he got up and continued walking.

---

_Flashback _

Harry assumed that after Draco had left he went home. As soon as he could get out of the stadium, he grabbed his things from the hotel and took a portkey back to England, then apparated to their house. Harry usually avoided apparating, as he hated the twisting feeling in his stomach, but the situation was too urgent to try to find a floo, and flying would take too long. He wanted to catch up to his boyfriend as soon as possible.

Ex-boyfriend.

No, he wouldn't lose him that easily.

"Draco?" he called. He wandered through the house, looking for his lover- no, ex-lover- but it quickly became apparent that he wasn't there. "Draco?"

Harry slumped down onto the bed. The one they had shared for the past five years. Harry didn't want to give this up, but they were both hurt so much. He had tried so hard to make things work, but never hard enough. There were always things in the way. Finally, Draco had driven him away, and he had sought the love and comfort he hadn't been getting from his boyfriend, who was supposed to love him unconditionally, in Oliver.

Draco had been making him miserable for some time now, and the love they had shared had faded. Oliver had treated Harry better in the short time they had been together than Draco had in a long time.

Harry punched a pillow angrily to relieve some frustration, but it didn't help. Realizing that such violence would do no good at all, he put his head in his hands in order to dwell on the situation.

He had cheated on Draco, and had been caught. Their relationship was over.

Harry realized that, although Draco wasn't there at the moment, he would be coming home eventually. He decided he needed to be gone before then. He opened his yet-unpacked suitcase, cast a bottomless charm on it, and began packing.

---

'What am I doing here?' Harry thought, looking up at the house he had shared with Draco for the past five years.

The doorknocker looked at him expectantly. "Password?" it asked.

Harry just sighed and stepped off the porch. He didn't want to go in yet. Draco was probably in there. Probably warm and safe in that big bed. Alone. Harry wished he could be with him. No matter what, he couldn't stop loving Draco.

He wandered around to the back of the house, where he could enjoy the warm night air, and not have to worry about confronting Draco yet. The more Harry dwelled on the situation, the more incoherent his thoughts became. He opted to read the end of the letter instead of thinking so much.

By the time he got to the end, he was in tears again.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.

Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

A/N: This is the end! Thank you all for sticking with me.

A shameless plug: My next major project is a collaboration with HPalto87, a long Harry/Draco story. It will be posted on her profile, and on my LJ. The links to both are in my profile. We're both really excited about it, so check back with us soon!

---

25

_Flahback_

Blaise opened the front door of the Zabini mansion to find a panicked Draco Malfoy standing on his doorstep.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Aren't you supposed to be at the Quidditch World Cup?" He asked.

Draco looked at him with confused gray eyes that Blaise wasn't used to seeing on his friend. Draco nodded, then shook his head. Blaise sighed, and led the blonde through the house to a quiet lounge.

They sat down on the sqishy couch, and Blaise called out, "Blinky!"

A house-elf appeared.

"Yes, master?" it quivered.

"I need two cups of hot chocolate, marshmallows in mine, but not in Draco's," Blaise demanded.

The house-elf nodded and disappeared. Blaise turned his attention to his friend.

"Why are you here?" he asked again. When Draco didn't answer, he tried a different approach. "How was the game?"

"It was fine. Puddlemere won," Draco said.

"So, shouldn't you be celebrating with Harry now?" Blaise asked.

Draco shook his head. "I had to break up with him."

Oh fuck, Blaise did not want to hear about Draco's relationship drama. He decided to be a good friend, however, and grudgingly asked, "Why?"

"He cheated on me," Draco said.

Blaise felt horrible for his friend, but he was skeptical. This was goody-goody Harry Potter they were talking about. The house-elf reappeared with the cocoa, and placed it on the table.

"And you have proof of this?" Blaise asked.

"He was snogging another guy in the middle of the fucking Quidditch pitch!" Draco yelled.

The house-elf shrank back. "Wou-would Master need anything else?" it stammered.

"No," Blaise answered, and Blinky left, happy to get away from the angry humans.

Blaise made an irritated noise, and looked away from Draco, afraid he would say something he'd regret. Why did everything these two do have to be so huge and public? A thought occurred to him.

"Hey, Draco, remember that fight you and Harry faked in Hogsmeade? This isn't lke that, is it?"

"Fuck you, Blaise!" Draco yelled.

"Hey, it's not like it hasn't happened before," Blaise said defensively.

"It's real, okay?" Draco said.

Blaise gave in and pulled Draco into a hug. Draco leaned against him, enjoying the comforting arms. Blaise felt Draco's hands slide beneath his robes and clasp around his back.

For a long time, Draco was what Blaise wanted, and he had been desperately jealous of Harry. Draco had never showed that sort of affection for anyone else. Blaise had wondered at first why, but it quickly became apparent that they complimented each other, they challenged each other, and most importantly, they loved each other. Blaise would always be nothing more than the best friend.

But here was Draco, in his arms, crying over Harry.

Wait, crying? Draco Malfoy doesn't cry!

But yes, he was crying against Blaise's chest.

"Hey, you two will work this out," Blaise tried to comfort him. This was slightly awkward. Blaise Zabini did not comfort people. In fact, he had fun causing pain and awkwardness.

Draco shook his head, and Blaise was losing his patience.

"Did you ever think about why he did all of this? Why he even left you for Quidditch in the first place?"

Draco didn't answer.

"What did you do to him, Draco, because the goody-goody Harry Potter wouldn't just hurt you like this for no reason. Considering your past, I have to think that you did something to drive him away."

"Fuck you, Blaise!" Draco pulled out of his arms to glare at his friend.

"Did you think I was just going to comfort you and tell you you're right, he's wrong, and the world is unfair? You're not a child anymore, Draco, and you know me better than that."

Draco gave Blaise a guilty look, then did something that surprised them both. He leaned in and kissed him lightly, letting his lips linger against Blaise's. When Blaise didn't immediately pull away, he did it again, letting the kiss deepen this time.

Finally Blaise pushed Draco back. "Stop it."

"Don't you want me?" Draco asked. He knew that Blaise had a crush on him for a long time.

"I did, before you fell in love with St. Potter," Blaise said with a glare.

"So, what, I'm not good enough for you anymore?" Draco demanded.

"That's not it. I'm not going to be your second choice, or your way to get back at him," Blaise said.

"He doesn't matter anymore!" Draco yelled.

"How can you say that? You two love each other so much, it's sickening!"

"I can't love him anymore," Draco said, and Blaise could tell he was close to tears again.

"Look, he's probably waiting for you, so just go home to him!" Blaise stormed out of the room, taking his cocoa with him.

---

Draco didn't want to be back in his own house yet, but he needed a few things if he was going to spend the night somewhere else. He could borrow a pillow and a set of spare robes from Ron, but that simply wouldn't do for a Malfoy.

He shoved a set of robes and his toothbrush into a bag, and threw some floo powder into the fire to go back to Hermione and Ron's place. Remembering the wine he had bought for Harry's return home, however, he decided a bit of alcohol would do him good.

As he poured the wine, he looked out the kitchen window. Despite the stormy weather earlier, it was a clear night, and the stars shone brightly above the lake. He re-corked the bottle and took his glass outside, and nearly stumbled over Harry.

Harry was sitting on the edge of the porch, staring out at the lake. He turned his head when Draco came out, however, then turned back without saying anything.

Draco desperately wanted to go back inside and avoid this whole awkward situation, but sucked up his courage, his anger, and his pride (which was an amazing feat, actually) and sat down beside Harry.

Harry was surprised, but didn't show it. He was too busy being upset over the letter.

"Harry…" Draco ventured.

"Draco?" Harry looked up, as if he hadn't noticed his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend- sit down.

They sat in silence for a few moments, neither sure what to say. Draco wanted to yell at Harry, make horrible accusations that he knew now were his own fault, and make the seeker hurt just as much as he did. Then he realized that Harry probably already hurt like he did, and figured the whole activity would be a pointless display of emotion, and would only serve to make them both angry. 'Angrier,' he amended.

Harry spoke first. "Your eyes aren't dull gray."

Of all the things Draco was expecting to hear, this wasn't one of them.

"You kept saying your eyes are dull, and mine are so much prettier, but yours are just as beautiful." He waved a stack of parchment in front of Draco.

Draco obediently took the papers, lit the tip of his wand, and skimmed through them.

"Your eyes shine silver when you are happy or excited, and they take the swirling colors of stormy rainclouds when you are upset, or planning something," Harry said. He smiled, remembering. "I love looking into your eyes."

Recognition dawned on Draco as he realized that he was holding the letter he had written to Harry when he was in St. Mungo's. He didn't know whether to be relieved because now he wouldn't have to say these things to Harry, or appalled because the git had read it without his permission.

"How did you get this?" he demanded.

"I found it when I was packing," Harry replied.

"You had no right to read this!" Draco said.

"If I hadn't, would you ever have told me all of this?" Harry demanded.

Draco paused. The answer was no, of course. "You broke the lock to get it."

"You should have used a stronger locking spell," Harry said.

"Well I didn't think my boyfriend would show such disregard for my personal property!" Draco exclaimed.

"Ex-boyfriend," Harry corrected sadly.

"Right," Draco agreed.

Silence enveloped them once more. They sat together, staring into the distance. They seemed so far apart.

"I meant every word when I wrote this," Draco said finally, bridging the gap. "I'd hate to give this all up."

"So would I," Harry agreed softly.

"But I don't know if we can trust each other," he said.

"We can try. I can promise to make the effort we should have made months ago, if you can too," Harry said.

"Okay," Draco said slowly. "But what about Wood?"

"I'm done with Ollie. He wasn't really what I wanted to begin with, I just got so caught up in it all… I'm sorry. There's nothing I can say to justify that to you. You'll just have to trust that I deeply regret it, and I would much rather be with you," Harry tried to explain.

Draco felt like he should confess something too. "I should have seen how unhappy you were, but you're right, I'm selfish. I didn't think."

They were both quiet for a moment while they processed this.

"I think I'm also done with Quidditch," Harry said. "It was fun, but if it hurts our relationship so much, it's not worth it. And besides, I don't really want to be around Ollie."

"Do we even have a relationship anymore?" Draco asked.

"If you say yes," Harry said.

"Yes to what?" Draco asked.

"Draco, I can't lose you again. I love you with all of my being, despite what's happened recently." Harry looked up at Draco with a hopeful smile. "Marry me."

"You arrogant prick, what makes you think I'd accept that proposal after you hurt me like that?"

Harry shrugged. "I think we've both been hurt, and we've learned our lesson, so can we please move on?"

Draco smiled and kissed Harry. Merlin, that felt good. "Yes," he whispered against the familiar lips.


End file.
